


Missed Connections

by Birdish



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AkuSai, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Romance, Business, Chance Meetings, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rikuvani - Freeform, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Soriku - Freeform, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdish/pseuds/Birdish
Summary: During a midnight trip to the grocery store, Riku runs into a cheerful starving-artist that he can’t get out of his head. Unfortunately, once he gets home, he realizes all he knows about the man is that he works in a gallery and really likes canned paopu fruit. Riku posts on Twilight Town's "Missed Connections" page not expecting much of a response, but what he gets in return is more than he’d ever thought to dream of.





	1. Grocery Store at Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Riku and Sora has been my OTP for years so I thought, might as well write fanfic in their honor.  
The schedule for posting is tentative, I'm just letting the story roll as it wants to.  
I hope you guys enjoy it!

It was a Monday night when Riku sat at his desk, the computer screen sending a blueish glow across his bedroom. He’d typed the message over a hundred times, rewording and closing the tab just to open it again and redo the process. It was the Twilight Town Missed Connections page, and after three days of no phone calls, no texts, it was his last hope.

His mind lingered back to that night, and rubbing tired eyes, Riku gave a loud sigh.

Riku’s job at _Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc. _meant he had to commute three hours just to get to work and driving the six hours every day was taxing. It meant going to bed the minute he got home and waking up before the sun even threatened to rise...but the six-figure salary was enough to keep him going. At this pace, he’d be able to retire by the time he was in his mid-thirties, a fact that made _that_ Friday all the more tolerable. Even after Isa had asked him to stay later to finish a report, even after Riku had been the last one to wearily turn off the office lights, dragging himself to his car at 8 PM, today was _Friday_, which meant sleeping in and lounging around in sweats for two days straight, and God was Riku _starving_ for the relaxation.

He was also, legitimately, starving. He knew what waited at home: an empty fridge, empty cupboards, and even though it was now exactly midnight, and his car was one of the few driving on the freeway, ghosts caught in some ethereal otherworld as the sound of the radio, mutterings of reports of organized crime in Radiant Garden, droned on, Riku knew he what he had to do.

Food. He had to get food. At least something to tide him over for the weekend. If he didn't go now he'd regret it in the morning.

Twilight Town shut down at around 7 o’clock, the small business shuttering their windows, the flashing open signs dimming and flickering off. Luckily, there was the ever-reliable 24-hour supermarket, and Riku, with a sigh, braced himself for the throngs of drunk college students that were going to be inside desperately looking for wine spritzers.

The list, his list, repeated in rapid succession in mind as he walked through the empty parking lot, the glow of the orange streetlights illuminating sharply against his leather loafers.

  * _3 Mushrooms_
  * _Water_
  * _3 Fish_
  * _2 Coconut_
  * _Eggs_

That’s all he needed to get through the weekend. Nothing more, nothing less. He pulled at the cool metal of the rickety-shopping cart, the wheels screaming as he pushed his way into the store, mind beginning to wonder.

_Ok, maybe I’ll get some Cup Noodles._

Riku’s friend and old college roommate, Noctis, had finally gotten a modeling gig, something their other roommate, Prompto, had all but died from joy at. It was a gig modeling for a noodle brand, sure, but it was a gig all the same, and Riku was happy to support.

The supermarket was dead; no drunken, idling college students, barely any employees, the chiming of a catchy pop song echoing ominously through the brightly lit store. The contents of the list were haphazardly thrown in the cart with sloppy hands because with each passing minute, precious sleep was lost, and Riku’s eyelids fluttered against exhaustion, the screeching from the cart gritting against his nerves.

When at long last he finally pulled into the aisle with the cup noodles, smirking as he rolled the container in his hands, Riku felt a sense of triumph. _Noct looks like someone’s threatening him_, Riku chuckled to himself. And the man did, his expression a set scowl, eyes daring: _Say something, I know how to use a sword._

Riku threw the few containers of Cup Noodles into his cart and prepared to roll his way out of the aisle when his eyes caught the yellow logo of a long-forgotten company. It was a brightly ordained can, the yellow star logo clashing against the dark green, the last, lone survivor of a flash sale: _Buy 1 get 4 free!_ He wheeled over, taking the can in his hands slowly, methodically.

_Diced Paopu Fruit, fresh from Destiny Islands!_

_How fresh could it be if it’s canned?_ Memories flooding back to him as he thought. His grandparents had owned a resort on Destiny Islands, and Riku had been forced to spend every summer there, sitting on the shores, the boundless sky and ocean almost inseparable, a prison. They’d had Paopu Fruit there, it was native to the island, and Riku’s stomach churned as he thought to how many meals he’d eaten where the fruit was the prized star. His mind went to the folklore, _"If two people share one, their destinies become intertwined. They'll remain a part of each other's lives no matter what."_ Maybe _that’s_ why Riku was single.

“Oh no…” came a voice, defeated and tired, by Riku’s side. Riku looked to whoever was at the grocery store at 12 AM, trying his hardest not to judge because, well, he was there too. He took in the form of a man, someone a bit shorter than him, eyes, wide and blue, like the water from the islands, bagged with fatigue and disappointment. His hair, a warm brown, was messy and matched his chaotic clothing, paint-splattered jeans and a faded sweatshirt. The man didn’t seem to notice Riku as he looked to the empty display, his eyes filled with deep betrayal and distance, lost to thoughts that isolated him from the rest of the world.

Whatever. Riku turned to leave, can still in his hand for what reason, he didn’t know. Impulse buy? Probable. He went to toss it into his cart, to surrender himself to misplaced nostalgia but....he chanced one last glance at the stranger. There was something about those wide oceanic eyes that made Riku almost appreciate the waves of Destiny Islands.

“Were you hoping to get in on the sale?” Riku asked, his voice low. The man jumped, almost comically in exaggeration, his expression startled. His eyes darted to the can in Riku’s hand, a hunger growing there, and he cleared his throat as he composed himself, giving Riku a friendly nod.

“Yea, I spent all day working,” he stretched, his tone friendly, pleasant, but dripping with exhaustion. “I only remembered this sale was happening when I closed up the gallery. I didn’t even know paopu fruit was popular in this town.”

Riku leaned against the cart, not minding the squeak. “It’s because it’s summertime, everybody gets into an island mood in the summer.”

The man nodded as he looked knowingly to Riku's cart, his expression saddening as he looked back to the empty shelf. “I get that, paopu always reminds me of home.”

Riku tossed the can in his hands idly, listening as the man talked. He didn’t even _like _paopu fruit, so what was the point in buying the can? The man began to talk about Destiny Islands in detail, explaining small details, things Riku had witnessed himself and would rather forget. The way the waves sounded as they lapped against the shore, the gentle caw of the seagull on the breeze, the sunsets that sent dazzling beads of light skipping over the waters. The man’s voice, pleasant and cheerful, made it all sound enticing, alluring. He painted a Destiny Islands Riku wanted to see, one that didn’t feel like a prison, one that felt like home.

“I’ll just have to get it when they restock.” there was a shrug and a flash of a wide smile. A warmth dusted itself over Riku’s face, and he knew, God he knew, that his cheeks were probably light pink. He cleared his throat, allowing the can to clatter into his cart.

“Good optimism.” He said with a nod. The man nodded back politely before walking away, hands digging into his pockets, shoulders slackened, the conversation dying with his parting footsteps. Riku watched him go, letting him round the corner of the aisle before he pushed his creaky cart to the checkout lanes.

As he bagged his food, he looked to the cashier, to her slick black hair, the name tag with the jagged handwriting _Xion_, and felt the churning of a possible bad idea in his stomach.

“Can I borrow your _Sharpie_?”

Riku, bag in one hand and can in the other, waited outside the store. He felt a little creepy, waiting for the other man to arrive in the dark of the night, but he remained, standing quietly by the exit, not minding the minutes that ticked by, the precious sleep that he lost. He thought to the smile, to that messy hair and those eyes, and it was worth the missed sleep.

Twenty minutes later, the man finally arrived, a large box of Sea Salt Ice Cream in hand. He scarcely looked to Riku as he passed, only giving the man a small glance in acknowledgment. His eyes were set intently on a van that sat underneath a streetlight, the artistic designs seeming to shine in the dark, the smashed in front fender rusted and shadow cast. In the front seat, a man with _incredibly_ spiky hair in an _unbelievable_ shade of red sat, arm draped out the window, eyes watching both of them, expression bored.

Riku cleared his throat and gave a low “excuse me”. The man turned to Riku, a flash of recognition in his eyes. For a moment there was a pause, and his expression turned to worry; but with a small smile, the friendly aura returned.

“Hey Can Guy,” he said. “Are you waiting for your ride?”

Riku balked. He was wearing a freshly pressed black suit, and even though his shirt was now untucked, his tie undone, he didn’t think he looked as though he needed a ride. Hell, he looked more like he was a chauffeur than anything else.

“No.” Riku spoke sharply, and the man gave a small “oh”, his gaze returning to the van. Riku, without a second thought, took the man’s hand and all but slammed the can into the unsuspecting palm. The man looked to Riku in surprise, something between gratitude and shock.

“Thanks,” he said gently, fumbling with the box of ice cream as he readjusted himself. Riku nodded before departing, his footsteps heavy as he made his way to his car.

Why hadn’t he said “bye”? Why hadn’t he at least said, “you're welcome”?

Riku wanted to turn around, to see if the man was watching him go, but there came another bolt of anxiety. _No, just get to your car, drive home, and sleep. If he wants to call you, your phone number is on the can. _And so, Riku did just that, in that order, and waited for the call.

It never came.

By Monday morning Riku thought he’d accepted the rejection. Maybe the other man had thought Riku was older? His silver hair sometimes gave people that impression. Or maybe, he’d thought Riku was rude for not saying goodbye?

Riku relayed all the information to his work partner, Ienzo, and the man rolled his eyes.

“Or _maybe_, he just wasn’t into you,” Ienzo wrote a formula in his notebook. “Just because you’re good-looking doesn’t mean everybody is going to be drooling over you.”

Riku nodded slowly and continued his work in silence. He pushed the Grocery Store Man out of his thoughts, but then those blue eyes and wide smile flickered into mind and he’d push away from his desk, clasping his hands together in exasperation. _We didn’t even talk long, there’s no reason to continue thinking about him. _ All through the three-hour drive home, the eyes and smile remained. _You’re never going to see him again, forget about it._ Riku walked up the stairs to his apartment, wondering if the man had eaten the paopu fruit yet.

That’s how he found himself on the Missed Connections page, retyping his message with a worried, beating heart.

_Come on Riku_._ Just do it._

He pressed the enter button and pushed back from his desk, eyes wide.

There on the screen was his message, in all its vulnerability:

_I was the silver-haired guy at the 24-Hour Market on Friday. I’m sorry for my rudeness, I was tired from work and wasn’t thinking properly. I’d love to meet up and try some of the paopu fruit recipes you talked about._

Crap.

Did it sound like he’d just asked the guy to come over and cook?

Riku dragged his hand through his hair with a sigh. When did he get so bad at these kinds of things?


	2. The Party at the Old Mansion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally learn each other's names! Thank Goodness! If I had to type "Supermarket Man" and "Can Guy" one more time, my laptop was going straight out the window. Also, Axel still goes by Axel, instead of Lea, for reasons that will be revealed later.

Sora placed the can on the top of the vehicle, flakes of blue and orange paint curling under the tin as he opened the door of the van. All but fighting against the heavy metal door, he climbed into the car, Axel’s expression amused as he watched Sora struggle. With his free hand, Sora tossed the box of Sea-Salt Ice Cream into the back, barely missing Kairi’s ankle, and she dismissively kicked the ice cream away, focusing intently on her newest craft, some sort of needlework depicting seashells.

“Oh come _on_,” Axel groaned, red hair catching the gleam of the streetlight. “Roxas is going to kill me if any of those are messed up.”

Sora sat heavily in the passenger seat and gave the man a low “sorry” while Kairi flashed a gentle, apologetic smile. Axel turned away with another exasperated sigh, turning the key, giving life to the old van. The engine lumbered along and the trio sat in silence as the car warmed, and only once the engine seemed to calm did Axel finally look to Sora knowingly, a small smile growing on his pale face, his green, feline-like eyes seeming to sparkle.

“You forgot your thing on the roof.”

He chuckled as Sora’s face blossomed red, his eyes bashful as he rolled down the window, arms stretching upward. Kairi looked up from her crafting, expression surprised as she looked to Sora and her older brother. She mouthed “_what?_” and Axel pressed a finger to his lips, the mischievous look amplifying. Kairi watched as Sora pulled a small can, the paopu fruit he’d gone to get, into the car. He cradled it affectionately and turned away from Axel, expression guarded. Kairi crawled forward, giving her older brother a leveled look before turning to Sora.

“What’s going on?” She knew very well what was going on, she knew the signs of Sora’s flustered “I’ve been hit on” routine by heart. Red face, cautious, even eyes, a sudden withdrawn nature as he tried to figure out how he felt about the ordeal. She’d been friends with the young man since childhood, had grown up on Destiny Islands with him. They’d gone their separate ways after high school when he'd moved to Twilight Town to be with his remaining family, but the friendship remained strong. 

“I just met a guy,” Sora’s voice sounded normal as he turned to her, eyes clear, the blush subsided. “He bought the last can of paopu fruit and then just gave it to me.”

“Oooooo,” Kairi grinned. “What’s his name?”

Sora faltered, his expression hardening as his eyes flashed to the back windows. They all turned, watched as the only other car in the parking lot pulled away into the night, and Sora groaned.

“I forgot to ask,” He rubbed his fingers through his hair. “He seemed nice. Nervous, but nice. He let me ramble on about the gallery and Destiny Islands.”

“And that was a _really_ nice car,” Kairi mused. “Let’s hope he doesn’t work for some big company like Nort Industries.”

Sora nodded, expression intense. _Right._ That was Sora’s deal-breaker when it came to dating, he wouldn’t consider romance with _anyone_ who worked for Nort Industries.

“You don’t need a name anyway,” Axel said, taking the can from Sora’s hand. “Look, he put his phone number on it. Just call him and ask.” Axel’s laughter filled the car as Sora’s face resumed its cherry-red hue. Kairi began to pull out her cellphone, fingers quickly typing the number that was scrawled neatly across the can. Sora placed a hand on her wrist, his expression fallen, the once previous pleasure faded to a calmness.

“We can’t…we shouldn’t…”

Kairi looked to Axel, the reserved, pained understanding level between them.

“Because of Namine?”

“Because of Namine.”

* * *

Riku brought Prompto as his plus one to the business party at the Old Mansion. The man had been “totally stoked” about it, his camera already flashing as he took pictures for his magazine’s editorial. It wasn’t every day that Nort Industries had one of their prestigious parties, let alone invited other companies to attend. Laughter and music were high in the air, the atmosphere fast and loud. Riku made his way through the hoard of bodies, his friends at his sides as he scanned the crowd intensely. He just needed to talk to Xehanort and Ansem, that’s all Isa had instructed him to do, and that’s all he _wanted_ to do.

“Holy crap look,” Prompto Argentum mumbled to the group, his blond hair seemingly white in the light, freckles like constellations across his nose. “They have an ice sculpture in the shape of a Keyblade!” Ienzo and Riku looked to the sculpture, expressions almost bored, but Demyx gasped.

“How long do you think that took them to make?” he turned to Ienzo with an excited grin, and under his gaze, Ienzo became bashful, ears turning a light shade of pink. Riku tried to hide his smile. It’d taken some coaxing, but eventually, Riku had convinced Ienzo to invite Prompto’s younger brother, Demyx, as his plus one, and he had to hand it to himself, he wasn’t a half-bad wingman.

It’d been a week since the Paopu Event, and in the aftermath of rejection, Riku poured all his focus into work. With a mind like steel, he’d urged Isa to allow him and Ienzo to go to the event and represent the budding company. They’d do the company proud, they were the leading team in Dark Matter research after all, and tonight was about showing the business competitors, Nort Industries and Hollow Bastion Enterprise, what Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc. could do. Though there were....less than satisfactory rumors about Nort Industries, gossip about connections with underground gangs that strong-armed any worthwhile competition, nobody worthwhile seemed to take it seriously. And Isa, apparently, agreed, because with a simple nod he’d sent his two subordinates to the party with only a single word of warning about the Nort Industries executivies.

Riku spotted the grizzled old man and his grandson through the crowd, faces he’d seen only on magazine covers. With a determined nod to Ienzo, they approached the CEO. They shook hands first with Xehanort Yami, their eyes never leaving the man’s yellow gaze, and Xehanort, his attention pouring into Riku as they grasped hands, seemed to smirk as he introduced his grandson Terra, the future CEO. Riku looked to the other man, his statuesque physique enough to make even him feel self-conscious. Terra flashed him a warm, genuine smile, Riku couldn't help but pause. The brown hair, the warmth familiar, the broad smile... it was all a ghost of something he’d seen somewhere before...

The thought evaporated as Prompto excitedly began asking if he could take the man’s photo, and Terra nodded.

“Do you like working for Radiant Gardens Lab?” Xehanort’s voice was cracked with age, but his tone carried ominous energy, eyes hungry as he looked to Riku.

“Yes, I enjoy it very much, they’re very good to me.”

Xehanort nodded, fingers rubbing his small white goatee as he continued. “We could always use more Dark Matter researchers,” his gaze flashed to Ienzo. “We’d pay you both handsomely.”

Riku cleared his throat, eyes narrowing. Isa had warned him about Xehanort’s aggressive attempts to steal employees, but he hadn’t expected it to be so _blatant_ and so _early_ into their interaction. Riku went to speak, already feeling the edge of the words on his tongue, but was stopped by a shove. The words, jolted from his mouth, came out as a gasp, and Xehanort’s expression hardened as he looked to the newcomer, Terra’s eyes flashed away from Prompto and Riku turned, already preparing his glare.

“Sora,” Terra’s greeting was pleasant, deep and strong. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

_So, his name is Sora_. Riku took in the aqueous gaze of the Supermarket Man. Sora looked up to him, panic evident in his hitched breath, his eyes sending one clear message:

_Can Guy?!_

The expression calmed as he looked to the badge around Riku’s neck, and something like happiness glimmered between the two of them. Riku looked to this _Sora_, remembering the casualness the man had exuded before; now, he was dressed professionally, black slacks and a white button-up, a basic black tie, a calm expression that looked painfully forced. The only thing casual that remained of the young man was his hair, the unruly spikes defying whatever gel had attempted to smooth them down.

“I’m leaving actually,” Sora turned his attention away, speaking to the heir with a reddened face, the polite smile on his lips strained. “I just wanted to say goodbye first.”

Terra nodded, and Xehanort continued the methodical glare. Sora, with one last painful glance in Riku's direction, turned away, nudging himself through the throngs of people, and disappearing into the crowd. There was silence in his departure, and Riku went to speak, only for Ienzo’s voice to cut through.

“You’ll have to excuse Riku and me,” Xehanort blinked as though seeing him for the first time. “I need to speak to him about something.”

Terra nodded, eyes following the retreating form of Sora. Xehanort produced two black matte business cards, handed them knowingly to the Radiant Gardens Lab employees, his gaze, once again, falling back to Riku and Riku alone.

“Consider my offer.” 

Ienzo pulled Riku to the edges of the party, Demyx following, Prompto staying, wrapped in his conversation with Terra.

“Was that the Supermarket Guy?” Ienzo hissed. Demyx listened, expression calm for once, eyes flashing between the two partners.

“Why would you come to that conclusion?”

“I know most of the people _you_ know and it’s not often that you just _stare at people_ like that. The most logical conclusion is that it had to have been your missed connection.”

Riku sighed, crossing his arms. Demyx smiled.

“That’s kind of romantic isn’t it,” he said wistfully “It’s almost like fate.” Riku grimaced.

“He probably thinks I’m some kind of stalker.”

“You won’t know unless you go talk to him.” Demyx looked to the entrance of the mansion, an eagerness to his words.

“But we still have to talk to Ansem—"

“I will talk to Ansem,” Ienzo’s waved his hands in exasperation. “I’m tired of hearing about the situation. Did you not call me last night moaning “do you think it’s because of my hair? Should I dye my hair?””

Riku crosses his arms, biting back the retort. _God, was he really that pathetic?_ Demyx’s thumbs-up didn’t soften the blow to his ego, and Ienzo’s staring eyes beckoned for him to leave. With one, brief glance, Riku turned away, thoughts of avenging his wounded pride sharp in mind. At his departure, Demyx turned to Ienzo, took the man’s hand in his own, and grinned at the scarlet blush that crossed over his companion’s cheeks.

“Come on, let’s talk to these people.”

* * *

Sora stood at the threshold of the Old Mansion, near the gates that yawned into the dark woods. Above, the orange dusky sky was giving way to darkness, the flickering stars of twilight distant and beckoning. By his side stood a young woman, her blonde hair long, the white dress she wore pristine and flowing gently in the wind. They talked in hushed tones, words rushed and brimming with emotion.

“Namine we can’t do _this_ anymore,” There was a wave of dejected anger in his words, a pleading to the tone. “I need to talk to Xehanort, and you need to talk to Ansem, we have to put our feet down about something and _now_ is the time.”

“I agree,” she took Sora’s hand in her own. “But what changed?”

“I just...I want to be able to make decisions for myself. I don’t want limited freedom, I want _complete_ freedom.”

“I understand but—” Namine looked away from Sora, her eyes widening as she stepped away. Sora turned, eyebrow furrowing. _Xehanort?_

Instead of the angered, yellow glare of the old man, Sora was met with eyes of jade. The man was breathing heavily, as though he’d run through the crowd of partygoers, and Sora’s gaze once again flashed to the name tag. _Riku._

Riku looked to Namine’s hand, wrapped tenderly around Sora’s, and Sora felt a dash of panic as the man faltered, stepping away. Namine’s eyes flashed between Sora and Riku, and she removed herself from her companion’s grasp, straightening her arm to the newcomer.

“I’m Namine Wise, Sora’s artistic partner,” she shook Riku’s hand with a smile. “We work together at the gallery.”

Riku nodded, her last name ringing in his head. _Wise_. She was Ansem’s daughter, his only child and the company heir....and she was talking to Sora....the man who’d been at the supermarket at midnight only to buy a box of ice cream and a couple cans of fruit...the man who’d spoken so directly to Terra and Xehanort, as though he were close with them....

_Who exactly was this guy?_

Namine looked to Sora as Riku turned to him, hand extended, and slowly, the brunette reciprocated. They looked to one another as they shook, properly introducing themselves for the first time, neither faltering under the other’s gaze. Sora’s hand was warm against Riku’s, soft and sure, and he almost didn’t want to pull away. They lingered in one another’s grasp, both at a loss for words but relishing in the connected flesh. It was Sora who pulled away first, and they both looked to one another with reserved clarity.

“I’m not a stalker or anything,” Riku said after a moment. “I’m here with my company.”

“I figured,” Sora nodded to the name tag. “Just a weird coincidence.”

“Mhm.”

There was a pained silence.

“Did you enjoy the paopu fruit?” Riku asked.

“Oh, I haven’t eaten it yet. I’m saving it for a special occasion.”

The silence returned.

Namine cleared her throat.

“I’m going to head back inside,” her voice was voice light, her eyes flashing to Riku. “Text me when you get home…and you know, you shouldn’t walk alone through the woods…maybe consider taking someone with you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Yea but you know,” Namine motioned to the darkening sky as she walked back to the mansion. “Nighttime and stuff.”

Riku and Sora were left alone, the sounds of the party distant and echoing. The silence grew between them and Sora sighed as he gave Riku an apologetic smile.

“It’s weird how she thinks I’ll be any safer in the forest with a total stranger.”he quipped. The way he shrugged his shoulders, the low tone of his voice, it was all so different from how the man had been at the supermarket. The carefree pleasantry was gone, now replaced by a put-on, manufactured politeness. What made it all the worse was the edge of snark, an attitude that didn’t seem to fit the friendly youth, and Riku felt a rush of sadness, of confusion.

“I was heading to my car anyway. I’ve had my fill of the party.”

“You can say that again,” Sora began to walk into the woods and he looked over his shoulder, gave Riku a friendly smile that stilled the young scientist’s heart, and motioned to him. “Let’s walk together then.”

* * *

The farther Sora got from Xehanort, the more pleasant he became. The friendly-nature he’d exuded at the grocery store seemed to revive and like a flower in the sunlight, Sora blossomed as he talked to Riku. The words came easily, fluidly, as he talked about the opening of his newest show, _Face My Fears_. It was an exhibit that explored all of his childhood phobias, from his fear of the dark to his fear of abandonment. It was easy for Riku to listen, to nod along, and he found himself hanging on the man’s words, anticipating and wanting to hear _more_.

“What do you do?” Sora asked suddenly, jolting Riku from his mellow state.

“I study Dark Matter.”

“Like space stuff,” Sora said, nudging him playfully. “You want to go to space?”

At the touch, Riku smiled. Sora was treating him as though they’d been lifetime friends, and he took in the token of camaraderie greedily.

“Don’t we all,” Riku nudged the man back. “Don’t you want to see other worlds?”

There was a flicker of reservation, a hardness Riku hadn’t expected as Sora thought.

“If I can go with my friends, sure.” He looked up to Riku, took in the jade eyes again, the sharp jawline, and felt his heart begin to beat quickly. He cleared his throat, looking away from the man, and took a deep breath.

“Listen, Riku,” the name felt _so_ right on his tongue. “I have a…thing…going on already.”

_Of course. _Riku thought, mind going to the way Namine had looked at Sora, to the way her fingers had grasped his hand. _He’s in a relationship already._

“It’s not like…a “thing thing” … but, it’s a thing nonetheless.” Sora muttered. He didn’t want to look at the other man, found himself wishing this conversation didn’t have to happen and that maybe, if he didn’t look into those jade eyes, it wouldn’t seem so real, so _embarrassing_. There was surprise though, pleasure even, when finally looked to Riku. Seeing that small half-smile and knowing, forgiving eyes was enough to foster a relief.

“That’s fine,” Riku looked to the opening of the street, to the orange lights bathing the brick in an amber haze. “We can be friends. I like your energy. Platonically.” _Smooth._

Sora smiled, felt his heart flutter under the man’s gaze. “Yea, we should hang out. Platonically. You should come to the gallery.”

Sora’s smile, a genuine, non-forced expression, was enough to make Riku melt.

“I’d love to.”


	3. Gallery Showings and Ice Cream Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axel tries his best, he really does. Terra too, they're just, not the best at it.  
And you know Roxas had to be the first person to swear in this fic, who else would it have been? 
> 
> It's the calm before the shenanigans.

Riku didn’t plan on bringing work home with him the Saturday Sora’s exhibit debuted. He hadn’t expected that as soon as he clocked out, his boss, Isa, would all but back him into a corner, muttering: “I have a business meeting in Twilight Town on Sunday at 8 AM, let me stay at your apartment this weekend. _Please_.” And Riku definitely hadn’t planned, expected, or ever thought in a million years that Ienzo, quiet, precious, _polite_ Ienzo, would creep into the conversation, adding slyly: “I’m coming too.”

But of course, Riku couldn’t, wouldn’t, say no. Who had offered him their couch when his tire had exploded on the freeway? Who had always given him level-headed and thorough advice? And who had given him a job, fresh out of college, and believed in him as he rose through the ranks of the company? The men before him, Isa and Ienzo, were the closest people he had to friends, spar for Noctis and Prompto.

So that was how Riku’s blissful drive-home, the time he spent decompressing from work and listening to horror podcasts and news reports about the uptick in organized crime in Radiant Garden, or, as he'd begun doing, calling and talking to Sora on speakerphone, was ruined. The conversations were sometimes brief, other times spanning for hours, Sora’s goofy humor and easy-going nature melding easily with Riku’s almost aloof style of speaking. Sora easily coaxed Riku out from his shell, and the men had become fast friends, bonding over their shared interests and dreams of traveling....But now the only thing the car was filled with was the sound of Ienzo turning the page of _whatever_ book he’d picked and, without warning, Isa’s quiet ramblings about the cultural and historical significance of the moon.

At least, as they arrived back in Twilight Town three hours later, Riku realized they were good houseguests. Ienzo walked into Riku’s apartment, went to the bathroom, and all but skittered out the door, apparently having some prior engagement to attend to. Evidently, he’d only used Riku for a free ride. Isa, on the other hand, went through the trouble of cooking Riku dinner, vacuuming the floor, and even began alphabetizing his movie collection. When Riku tried to stop him, the man simply said, in that calm, even way he always spoke: “I’m simply expressing my thanks.”

The next morning, as Riku’s alarm went off, alerting him that in exactly one hour Sora would be expecting him, he hadn’t expected Isa to already be awake, dressed casually in a black zip-up jacket with grey trim, coffee brewing for them both. It was with a heavy heart, and an unwillingness to leave Isa alone in the apartment, that Riku took his boss along to _the completely platonic _art gallery exhibition hosted by none other than the supermarket cutie.

“You have absolutely no breakfast food Riku,” Isa muttered as they headed out the door. “We need to get breakfast before we do anything, it is the most important meal of the day.”

Riku bit back a sharp remark and gave a slow nod. At this rate, they’d be late to the exhibit’s opening.

And they were, not that Sora was too disappointed. Sora was, in a way, _relieved_ that the man had missed how he and Namine had walked before the small crowd, hands woven together as they said in unified joy: “Hello, thank you so much for coming to our show!” He was thankful that Riku missed the orchestrated kiss on the cheek, the feigned look of affection. He'd wanted Riku to know that he was involved, someway, in _something_, but he didn’t want the man thinking that he was in any sort of serious relationship with Namine. What was going on between them would be sorted out in due time, and for the time being, he didn’t want Riku to witness their finely-tuned act.

Sora was disappointed, however, when Riku finally arrived, the bell on the door jangling as he entered, with another man in tow. They lingered in the front by the snack table as Riku scanned the room, and Sora leaned against the wall, waiting to be seen. Riku’s companion left his side and began walking towards one of Namine’s art pieces, the one that depicted a large moon in the shape of a heart, his expression intense. When Riku finally found Sora, his smile tender in recognition, Sora couldn’t help but return the man’s warmth with a grin of his own.

“You made it!” Sora walked to him. “Feel free to browse around, eat some of our refreshments.” He motioned to the table, face falling as he took in the almost barren food display.

“Well, we _had_ food.”

“It’s fine,” Riku’s eyes lingered on Isa. “I ate before coming.”

Someone called to Sora, motioning to a piece of artwork, and Sora excused himself, beckoning for Riku to enjoy the exhibit. Riku did, winding through the aisles, taking in Namine and Sora’s art. The man had some talent, his pieces depicting landscapes from all over the world: there were the beach scenes of Destiny Islands in the middle of some type of storm, some whimsical Wonderland place with rows and rows of budding flowers, and Riku’s favorite, the Twilight Town clocktower, stark against the orange sky of the setting sun, a melting Sea Salt Ice Cream in the foreground. He looked to the pieces, trying to figure out what in them showcased Sora’s fear, and maybe, how he could remedy it. The art was priced decently, in the low thousands, and to Riku’s amusement, and a bit of budding pride, many of them had already sold. Namine’s pieces were gentler, softer, subtle portraiture drawn with oil crayons. It suited her light and airy personality, and Riku felt a touch of jealousy. She seemed like a kind, sweet person, of course Sora would have fallen for her.

Riku stopped in front of a large canvas, painted only in white. He stared at it, trying to figure out _what _exactly was happening, and someone chuckled by his side.

“Sora calls this one _Simple and Clean_,” the man, shorter than Riku and hair a cacophony of spiky blond tresses, spoke in an almost whisper. “He bought a white canvas, painted it white, and said, “Now this. This is perfect.” 

“And look,” the man tapped the painting. “Someone actually bought it already.” Riku didn’t respond, only continued to look to the blank canvas calmly. If this man was trying to lead him into badmouthing Sora’s art, he wouldn’t fall for it. Hell, Riku was gearing up to defend the blank canvas, his retort already finding its way up his throat.

As the silence thickened, the man extended his hand forward. “My name’s Roxas, I’m Sora’s neighbor.” Riku relaxed at the statement of familiarity, thankful that it wasn’t a snooty art critic, just a snooty neighbor. A copy of Roxas walked up, a paper towel stacked with cookies in his arms, and he looked to the interaction with a curious gaze.

“Ven, Jesus fucking Christ, you took all the cookies.” Roxas looked to his brother.

Ven smiled and shrugged, his expression playful. He looked to Riku, recognition flashing in his eyes.

“You’re the Can Guy!” he exclaimed. Roxas’ eyes widened and he fought the urge to scowl. Riku, on the other hand, felt a sliver of happiness bolt through him. So Sora _was_ talking about him to his friends, that wasn’t a bad sign.

Ventus introduced himself and with his arm full of cookies, realized couldn’t shake Riku’s hand. He opted on nudging the man with his shoulder. “Roxas is my twin.”

“He can tell Ven, he can tell,” Roxas mumbled. He took a cookie from Ven and motioned to Riku. “Walk with us.”

  
* * *

Isa was on a mission to buy any pieces of art that depicted the moon, even the ones where it was a casual observer in the background. Sora trailed behind him as the man mused about the importance of the orbiting lunar _goddess_ and tried to keep himself calm as he began totaling the purchasing amount. _I might be able to pay Axel back for all the rent I’ve missed,_ Sora tried to conceal the grin that fought to surface, _I can replace Roxas’ skateboard, and I’m one step closer to getting a ticket back to Destiny Islands._

“Oh God, who let Isa in here?” Sora looked up in surprise, found Axel leaning against the wall, dressed in his typical black attire, expression mischievous.

“Mr.Isa came with Riku,” Sora said gently, trying to tell Axel to _leave_ with his eyes. “He’s one of our many valued guests, _Axel_.”

“You still go by Axel,” Isa crossed his arms, looked to the fiery red-head with an expression that matched his unamused tone. “Lea really?”

“It suits my artistic pursuits,” Axel stepped forward nonchalantly, voice playful. “Everyone wants to get a tattoo done by a guy named Axel.”

“So you’re still tattooing, I thought you said that was just a college hobby.”

Axel gave a low, forced laugh, his eyes narrowing as he advanced. “I manage an apartment complex _too_ you know,” He stepped closer to Isa, so close that they were almost touching, and he flashed the man a wide smile. “I’m a certified businessman just like you.”

Isa narrowed his eyes and for a moment there was a tension, deep and thick, that grew as the men stared at one another. There were flashes of anger in their gazes, hot fire meeting cool, leveled ice as old arguments, previously dormant awoke bearing new frustrations. Sora cleared his throat, thinking to the pieces he still needed to show Isa, and the blue-haired man turned away from Axel, looking to Sora smoothly.

“Shall we continue with the tour of the exhibit?” he asked. Sora nodded, shooting Axel another warning glance.

“I’ll tag along,” Sora began to hate the man. “I bet Sora is really curious about how you and I met Saix.”

“It’s Isa, Lea.”

“And I’m not interested,” Sora said quickly. “I was actually enjoying Mr.Isa’s theories concerning the moon.” Isa shot Sora a small smile.

“It was back in college,” Axel started, walking alongside the pair. “And Isa and I decided that we needed to be in a band. We knew, deep in our hearts, that a band was the reason we were put on this Earth. We called it,” he paused dramatically. “_The Organization_. It was me, Isa, and this high schooler named Demyx—”

“If you were in college why did you recruit a high schooler?”

“Because he could play a mean sitar, don’t interrupt Sora,” Axel cleared his throat, and Isa shot him another deep glare. “So there we were, in a band, black trench coats our uniform, “X”s placed in our stage names, and we were Gods of Rock.”

“_Stop_.” Isa’s voice was a knife stabbing through the soft underbelly of Axel’s ranting. He glared, his tone heavy and chilled, and the red-head paused, his expression changing, faltering, as he looked to the man.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of Isa,” Axel muttered, his expression darkening.

Isa looked to Sora, his eyebrows still furrowed. “I will write you a check for the pieces we discussed, if you could tell Riku I went to the café across the street it would be much appreciated.” He left without glancing at Axel, the small bell on the door chiming as he departed. Sora glared at the red-head, and the man looked to him, his expression apologetic, eyes confused.

“I didn’t think he’d react like that—”

“Axel this showing is a big deal for me and Namine, if you could try your best, your absolute _hardest_, not to chase away potential clients, that’d be great,” Sora growled. Axel, eyes flittering to the door, nodded slowly.

There came a low chuckle, and Roxas peeked over Axel’s shoulder, Ven and Riku in tow.

“What did Axel do now? It can’t be worse than when he tried to buy my forgiveness with ice cream.”

Sora sighed, explaining simply that "Mr.Isa has decided, after some prompting, to go to the café across the street". Riku didn’t seem to mind his companion’s absence, instead, he stood by Sora, waiting for the moment when they could be alone. Sora looked up at him, his eyes tired.

“You’ve met all my friends, excluding Kairi, but she had work,” Sora motioned to the unruly trio in front of him. “_Ta-da_.”

Axel looked to Riku, assessing the man. He nodded slowly, and Sora watched, anger momentarily subdued, as he took one of the cookies from Ven’s small pile.

“That was really smooth of you,” Axel said finally. “With the phone number on the can and everything.” Riku blinked, not knowing if it was a compliment or a thinly-veiled jab, his jaw tightening all the same.

“Thanks,” he responded slowly. “It was an attempt.”

There was an awkward, and unfortunate, silence as they all realized Sora _hadn’t _called Riku back. Riku, thinking back, realized there hadn’t even been a response to the Missed Connection post. It made sense, of course, since Sora was involved with Namine somehow, but _damn_ did it hurt.

Axel bit his tongue, felt a shard of guilt pierce through him as he remembered, _oh right, Sora hadn't decided to pursue anything_. And worse, he’d forgotten, just for a moment, about _Namine_. 

Sora cleared his throat, clapping his hands together, and Axel's guilt grew.

“I’m going to go check on the other guests,” he smiled at Riku. “Afterwards, how about me and you go get some ice cream?”

Riku nodded, wanting nothing more than to be alone with the man, and gently, he asked if they could stop by the music store. Demyx’s birthday was coming up and he needed to buy him something, even a guitar pick would do. Sora agreed, happy to accompany Riku anywhere, and the tension seemed to die a little.

  
* * *

At noon, Sora and Namine thanked the gallery owner and their guests as the event came to a close. With a knowing glance in Riku’s direction, Namine went to lunch with Roxas and Ventus, and Axel, seemingly, disappeared without a word. Sora and Riku walked through Downtown Twilight Town, their footsteps echoing against the brick, the distant sounds of the Struggle Tournament rising into the air, and it felt _right_. The silence between them didn't hold the expected awkwardness, and Riku, with a low sigh, appreciated it, relaxed into it. He liked the man’s gentle smile, the bounce in his step, the way he leaned his head back into his hands as he hummed some cheerful little tune. The silence, filled with the quirks of his companion, was comfortable.

He liked all of this, of course, _platonically_.

They arrived at the ice cream parlor quickly, and Sora beckoned for Riku to sit at one of the small metal tables while he ordered.

“The Bueno Volcano is the best,” Sora said, leaning across the table as their dessert was prepared. “You’re going to have to fight me to get a bite.”

“I’m guessing,” Riku spoke slowly, appreciating the way Sora seemed to be hanging on his every word. “It’s pretty bueno?”

“Oh yea,” Sora chirped, cocking his head as he looked to Riku, smiling. “The bueno-est.”

When their ice cream arrived, they ate it over laughter and gentle conversation. They talked of their shared love of recreational Keyblade sparring, their love of music and sunsets. It was as though they’d been friends for years, since childhood, and it felt as though long scattered pieces were finally lining up. Sora supplemented the energy Riku lacked and Riku provided a gentle, ever-present sense of security. When Sora, playfully, extended a spoonful of ice cream to Riku, Riku didn’t hesitate to take a bite and silently, he thanked his past-self for not buying enough food. He thanked Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc. for giving him a job that allowed him to see Sora at the party. Because now he knew for sure, he _liked_ Sora, it wasn't simple attraction, he genuinely _liked_ the man. Even if this was a platonic outing, that didn’t mean that for Riku, the budding affection...

“Sora!” a booming voice seemed to echo off the brick walls, and Riku jarred from his thoughts, turned to its source. In all of his unbridled masculinity, Terra jogged into the courtyard, a flyer for Sora’s art exhibit crinkled in his hand. He smiled at the pair, gave Riku a polite and quick “hello, sorry for interrupting”, and skidded to a huffing halt. He pulled up a chair, the metal screeching loudly as it dragged over the brick, and Riku tried not to look surprised as his heart thundered against his rib cage. _So Terra and Sora were good enough friends that he’d also been invited to the gallery showing._

“I missed your show,” Terra looked to Sora apologetically. “I’m sorry, but hey, I knew you'd be here.”

“Yea, yea...and it’s fine,” Sora's voice wavered. “The exhibit will be up for a month, you can check it out anytime.”

Terra’s eyes, mahogany and smooth, flashed to Riku. He looked to the devoured ice cream, to the two spoons, the secluded, corner table, and gave the younger men a calculated glance.

“_Soooo_, where’s Namine?” At the question, something seemed to tighten in Sora's expression.

“She went to have lunch with Roxas.”

“You two didn’t want to go with them?” Terra continued, looking to Riku with ever-narrowing eyes.

“No Terra, we didn’t,” Sora’s was edging on coldness, words biting and icy, his once calm eyes straddling the lines of anger.

Terra nodded and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looked on.

“He hasn’t told you, has he?” he spoke gently, looking to the silver-haired man with an expression akin to pity. Riku’s heart began to beat harder, and he stilled himself, wanting nothing more than to grab Sora’s hand, stand, and leave.

“Terra.” There was a warning, a begging, in Sora’s tone.

“Sora’s my half-brother,” Terra spoke smoothly, easily, as though he were commenting on the weather. “He’s one of the future heads of Nort Industries.” _That had been the source of the déjà vu_. Riku took the information in stride, nodding slowly, eyes boring into Terra’s._ Sora is the grandson of one of my direct competitors. No biggie._

Sora stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the brick, his fists balled in anger.

“Terra!”

“He’s engaged to Namine Wise,” There was a token of kindness in the words. “We’re merging the companies together.”

Now there, there was a biggie.


	4. Awkward Conversations and Sweet Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 for 2 on the flashbacks! It's a flashback chapter! 
> 
> Crying, I'm sorry, I know the first half is an info dump.  
If you want to skip it all you need to know: Sora is a good friend, wowie.

“We’re just friends.”

The way Riku spoke sent chills down Sora’s spine. There was a flash of worry, misguided hurt, as Sora glared at his older brother, but Terra didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he looked sympathetically to the two young men before him, their confusion and anger written throughout their rigid movements, their downcast stares. There was a tinge of guilt...but he was doing Riku a favor, he was _sure_ of it, Terra _knew _how Sora could be. It would be better to hear it now, while everything was fresh, then in a year when Sora, sheepishly, informed him that “oh yeah, I’m getting married tomorrow.”

Sora stepped away from the table, his eyes like daggers, and Terra took the gaze in stride, allowing his brother to pour the anger into him.

“Let’s go Riku,” Sora walked from the table. Riku followed with a nod to Terra, still bound by some need to be polite, and they walked away, the silence no longer pleasant as Terra sat alone, expression guarded.

_Engaged!? _Riku’s mind was swirling, and he felt unsteady as they walked. There was an anger, deep and bubbling, threatening to overflow as he shot a glance at Sora. Sora’s expression was tense, eyes narrowed, hands tucked deep into his pockets. He wouldn’t look at Riku, his gaze straight ahead, and it all felt so _wrong._

They walked through Downtown Twilight Town, the only sound the echoing of their footsteps. The silence was unsettling, ominous, as though they were the only two people left in the world...Riku paused as they passed the music shop, his eyes lingering on the dusty window display of violins and flutes. He walked into the store, not checking to see if Sora was following. The owner gave a haphazard greeting before she returned to her magazine, and with a glance behind him, Riku noted that Sora had, in fact, followed him inside. Sora trailed behind Riku, fighting to think of what to say, pausing, as though defeated, by the grand piano. Riku continued on, his footsteps disappearing into the store, and idly, Sora sat. 

When Riku was sure he'd disappeared from Sora's view, he faltered, pressing his back against the wall. _Engaged…_There was a pain in Riku’s chest, sharp and demanding. _You can’t really be this upset about him being engaged, you knew he was in a relationship_. He peered back, looking through the strings of a harp, watched as Sora stroked his hands over white piano keys. There came a gentle, tinkling melody, feelings of nostalgia and love flowing with each note. Sora’s fingers pressed slowly down, drawing out the light sounds of the piano, and in the dim light, his brown hair shined a faint chestnut, and with his eyes like the surf of the sea, Riku couldn’t help himself.  
  
_It'd probably be the only, and last, time he could get close to him._

Sora played the song his mother had played for him in childhood, the only thing missing were the sounds of waves as he went through the melody. He wasn’t expecting Riku to return, to lean over with hands gently placed on top of his. Even in his surprise, there came the gentle ebbing of relief. _He’d come back._

It was an intimate pose, gentle and caring, and Sora paused, allowing Riku to move his hands across the keys. They played together, slowly and deliberately, their hands cradling one another's, and as the song drew to a close, Sora pressed into Riku, relishing in the warmth, the small token of affection.

“Dearly Beloved is my favorite song to play on the piano.” 

“Mine too.”

Sora looked to Riku, face so close that his nose rubbed against the other man’s cheek. They looked to one another, cheeks red and eyes lulled by something soft and sweet. He could spend all day looking into Riku’s eyes, could spend hours enjoying the warmth of the other man’s hands intertwined with his. _I like you._

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, pulling away. “About Namine.”

Riku drew back, straightening himself, the gentleness of the moment dying away.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I already knew something was going on between you two, and Terra being your brother isn’t that big of a deal.”

Sora nodded, said slowly: “Let me explain.”

And with a nod, Riku allowed him to.

  
* * *

_4 Years Prior_

Sora’s mother passed on a Wednesday, around the time of day when the sun peered over the surf. The ocean air, salty and cool, brushed Sora’s cheeks as he walked from his home, tears dripping down his face as he teetered to Kairi’s house.

“Call the police please,” he choked out, lips trembling, as she answered the door. “Please.”

Sora remembered all the times his mother had yelled for him to come to dinner. All the times he’d ignored her calls, those days on the island spent sleeping under the stars, not telling her where he was or when he’d be home. Had he been a bad son? Had she known what a good mother she was?

By Friday he was on a one-way flight to Twilight Town, and his older brother, someone he’d only met five times, greeted him at the airport with a gentle, well-meaning, hug. Sora melted into Terra’s arms and wept, and Terra accepted the grief, the sorrow, his arms tightening and his words coming quiet and sweet. Terra was kind when he decided against taking Sora directly to the Old Mansion. He was kind when, after Sora’s first of many crying fits had passed, he showed the young man around Twilight Town. The Seven Wonders, the Struggle Lot, and to top it off, Sea Salt Ice Cream to eat ontop of the clocktower. It was all, a kindness Sora wasn't equipped yet to recognize.

“When our father died, before you were born, I remember how badly it hurt, how everything just seemed so _broken_. Our grandfather, he wasn’t much help. But I’m here for you, if you ever need to cry, scream, just let it out, I’m here.” Their feet dangled from the Clocktower, and Sora gave a small, understanding nod.

By the time they made it home it was dark, and Sora numbly followed Terra into the domineering mansion. Xehanort waited for the pair, an ever-present stare as he looked to the mourning newcomer. His first words to his grandson were not slivers of kindness, instead, they were directions.

“It is a tragedy what happened but from it, there is hope. You're enrolled in Radiant Gardens University and you _will_ double major in Political Science and Business Administration, education is important and should not be neglected. When the time comes, you will marry who I say, I will make sure you are taken care of, do not worry. All I ask is that, from now on, you go by_Vanitas_. I don’t know why your mother named you Sora, it’s a very…weak name.”

Terra, hands gripping Sora’s shoulders, spoke calmly to his grandfather as he led his younger brother up the stairs. “He just lost his mother. Leave him alone for now.”

Xehanort watched on, his eyes never leaving the pair as they retreated.

Namine sat in her room and watched as Terra led the weak teen. The Old Mansion had been gifted to Xehanort by Ansem, a token of friendship between the two companies, and Namine had come along with the deal, a reliable bargaining chip between the two families.

As the summer progressed, Sora was pleased, decently surprised, that his grandfather left him alone. He was happy to find kinship in Namine, happy to get closer to a brother he'd always thought about. It was only when, as summer vacation drew to a close and Terra went on his business trip to Daybreak Town, that Xehanort finally pursued Sora again.

“Vanitas, your classes are starting this Monday. Your dorm information and everything you need will be in the car.”

Sora sat on his bed, hands gripping the comforter as he looked to the man, blinking slowly. “I don’t want to major in Political Science or Business Administration. I really...I really don’t need you making decisions for me, it's alright.”

Xehanort blinked, nodding, as though he'd anticipated, the sudden streak of defiance.

“I’m paying for the roof over your head, for the food in your stomach Vanitas,” every time the name was spoken Sora felt his muscles tense, a thrill of panic running through him. “I'm not asking for much, I want you to step in your role in this family. I cannot support you financially if you continue to disobey me.”

It wasn't so much a question as a promise, and Sora accepted it with open arms. In the span of thirty-five minutes, Sora found himself on the streets of Twilight Town with a backpack stuffed with clothes and a bank account nearing depletion. It'd happened quickly, he'd said he wouldn't accept being forced into something, and then.....

His eyes burned, and he blinked rapidly as he dialed Kairi, explaining the situation quickly before the dial-tone sounded, the last thing he exclaimed a pained: “I’m...homeless.”

Axel arrived in a beaten-up van no less than twenty-minutes after Sora called. Kairi had called from Traverse Town College in tears, begging her older brother to pick him up, and Axel, of course, obliged. They drove in silence, allowing the emotions to thicken in the air, and only spoke once they'd parked, both taking the sudden loss of the humming engine as an apparent signal.

“Xehanort is an asshole." 

Sora nodded quickly, his hands balling into fists.

“I promise to pay you back once I’m able to,” Axel turned to him, eyes gentle, saddened, as he remembered when Sora was a child, running through Destiny Islands with eyes bright and a voice that was too loud and _too_ happy. The man before him seemed tired, not yet broken but definitely cracking, the small flickering embers of hope cold in his eyes.

“Of course,” Axel placed a reassuring hand on Sora’s shoulder. “What do you need to get back on your feet?”

With that, Axel footed the bill for Sora’s paint supplies and Terra, in a state of panic, arrived at the apartment in a frenzy the next day, his business trip cut short. He offered to pay for anything and everything Sora needed. Sora, after allowing his older brother to rant about their grandfather, refused the money, saying plainly, “I don’t want to use Xehanort’s money. Don’t worry about me Terra.”

So, for months that bled into eventual years, every time Sora sold one of his paintings, half of the earnings went to Axel, the other half supplementing his other bills. Sora got a job at a skateboard shop, and for a while, it was hard. His body ached, and he was in a permanent state of exhaustion, but that spark of joy began to grow, strengthening in Sora’s eyes as the months passed. He still mourned his mother, crying when he needed to, working hard when he wasn’t, and then, after two months of living on his own and two months of nightly bout of crying, someone knocked on the door. Sora, blurry-eyed, was met with an offering of Sea Salt Ice Cream and sympathetic glances from two blond young men, his next-door neighbors offering a feeble attempt at comfort.

With the help of his friends, Sora found his footing, and himself, again. He tried to balance college with work but eventually...had to give up on his dreams of an art degree. Maybe someday he could go back, but for now, he was more focused on paying Axel back.

Life had progressed like so, and the years passed. Kairi graduated college and moved back to Twilight Town, Sora’s neighbors, Roxas and Ventus, both got into their careers: Roxas a rookie detective and Ventus, a human resources officer at Disney Town Theme Park. Sora filled an artistic niche that Twilight Town desperately needed, one that showed distant beaches and cheerful dreams, and he could ignore Xehanort if he stayed away from the Science and Business district of town. Terra frequently visited Sora after work, they’d walk through Twilight Town just as they’d done the first day. Sometimes, pizza in hand, they’d watch all sorts of terrible, funny movies in Sora’s living room, and life seemed good. 

After three years of the cycle, Sora was happy again, but that, as everything does, only lasted so long. It all became distinctly more complicated when, during her weekly visit, Namine started to cry. They frequently got together to draw and muse about life in Sora’s living room, and for days the young woman had gotten quieter, more subdued, until finally, she broke.

“What’s wrong Nami?” 

“My dad wants to....marry me off to some guy named Pete,” she wiped the tears quickly, sniffling. “I wasn’t going to tell you but...”

_What was with these rich guys thinking people were just pawns_?

“Put your foot down Namine. Tell your dad to go screw himself.”

She shot him a glance, her expression calculated before she laughed. It was humorless, something sad, almost mocking, in the sound.

“It’s not that easy Sora, you were able to do that with your grandfather because you have a support system under you… I don’t have anyone.” Namine sniffled and turned away, the tears dotting her sketch pad. “And this Pete guy is from a _really _wealthy family, that’s all my father cares about.”

Sora faltered, realizing that even though he’d tried so hard to escape Xehanort’s clutches, he’d still somehow fallen into them.

_When the time comes, you will marry who I say._

_Fine then. _

“I’ll marry you Namine,” Sora took the woman’s hands in his own. “If your Dad wants someone from a wealthy family, he has someone right here.”

  
* * *

Riku didn't know what to make of it. He wanted to speak, wanted to say that it didn’t matter, that even if Sora was engaged, _married_, that Riku still _liked_the man. He almost laughed to himself, bitterness growing as he looked to the seated Sora.

“You’re a noble friend, a good person.”

Sora didn’t know whether to nod or speak. 

“Terra only wants the best for me. He doesn’t think there’s any way Namine and I _aren’t_ going to get married, so I guess maybe he’s just trying to save me from some kind of...pain? But Namine and I have a plan, we just haven’t…come up with it yet.”

Riku sighed. _How did I find myself in this situation_? He looked to Sora, took in that innocent face and those large blue eyes, and thought to the large smile that had been there when they'd eaten ice cream. _Damn._ He could feel it, something warm and angry, growing within himself. It was a selfish desire, the same desire that'd kept Sora from telling him the full truth, but Riku wasn't Sora, was bounded by an engagement.

“Sora...I’m fine with hanging out with you, I am. I’m willing to do that, but I just need you to know that—”

“Don’t say it.” Sora stood from the piano, his voice low.

“It’s better if it’s just out in the open,” Riku retorted. “I’m not asking anything of you, I’m just trying to tell you how _I’m_ feeling about all of this.”

“Don’t open Pandora’s Box just yet,” Sora's voice was barely above a whisper. “Just wait.”

Riku’s gaze fell. _When then Sora? When I’m watching you walk down the aisle?_

_It’s just a crush, no reason to get beat-up over it_.

Riku cleared his throat and nodded.

“Right,” he said. “Will I get an invitation to the wedding?”

There came a low laugh, a pained grin, _he's just like Terra_ a low, pained echo. They both had no faith in him, both unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel, seeming to agree that he'd fail.

“Sure,” Sora said curtly. “Whatever you want.”

They departed then, no goodbyes interchanged, both leaving to meet friends who were going to ask questions that prodded raw emotions. If either of them, just as they’d walked away, had said, had even whispered, “_please, don’t go_”, the other would have relented, running back and taking the other in his arms. But neither spoke, and as the distance between them grew, so did their longing.

Sora wasn’t going to abandon Namine for a guy he’d just met, no matter how handsome and understanding that man was. Namine had been by his side for _years_, nurturing his art and helping him grow, allowing him to grieve without judgment, coaxing laughter when he felt none. Even if Riku, somehow effortlessly, seemed to give Sora what he lacked, a sense of level-headed coolness, Riku _wasn’t_ Namine. And right now, Namine, Sora’s friend, needed him.

Riku didn't turn to watch as Sora walked away from him. Instead, he kept forward, onwards to a future he hadn't considered, wishing he’d never gone to that supermarket all those nights ago. _I should have just bought so Mickey-Donalds._

That night, it pained Sora not to respond to Riku’s one text, a brief “thank you for the invitation to the gallery show", and likewise, it pained Riku to see the “read” symbol. How had it all gone so wrong?

  
* * *

As the two men's relationship crashed and burned, Axel was attempting to fix his own sweltering companionship.

  
He’d gone, almost blindly, to the café, slinking into the calm, pleasant atmosphere. Isa watched him, eyes narrowed as he sipped his tea, but didn’t move away, didn’t fully glare, as Axel sat down at the table with a sigh.

“I’m sorry.” Axel’s tone held a pleading genuity.

Isa nodded, taking another long sip.

“I know Le—Axel,” if Axel wanted to be called _Axel_, Isa wasn’t going to deny the man his name. “You’ve always been the king of putting your foot in your mouth.”

Axel smiled, leaning into his palm as he looked to Isa, appreciating the man’s long blue hair and serious eyes.

“Remember when we used to make out on the clock tower?”

“For the love of _God _Axel, are you trying to prove my point?” Axel also appreciated how quickly Isa turned red. “That was years ago.”

“But you remember, right?” came the purr, and Isa sighed.

An outsider would assume that the men had grown distant due to their breakup. That the childhood friends hadn’t been able to reconcile their bond once their romantic relationship deteriorated. But that wasn’t the case, not even in its barest inklings. Their bond was stronger than any breakup, the romance's ending just been another memory amongst thousands. What had really sealed the deal, had nailed their coffin shut, was Axel’s inability to watch Isa plummet down the wrong path.

It began when Isa secured a job right out of college, which was to be expected, he was an ambitious and quick-witted man. Most of his interviews ended in the _interviewer_ leaving in cold sweat, feeling as though _they’d_ been the one being assessed. It’d been a job at a small company, less than twenty employees, and Isa had fallen head-over-heels in love with his supervisor, Director Xemnas.

“You can’t date your boss Isa,” Axel had rolled his eyes. “That’s unethical and _creepy_.”

But Isa hadn’t cared, he’d waved off the advice. He was smart, he could take care of himself, and Xemnas was unlike any man he’d ever met. His voice was cold, his eyes even colder, and when he spoke, there was something poetic even to the demands. Isa had never known he would like or more-so,_ crave,_ something so jarring.

There'd been a helplessness to the whole affair. Axel, watching as his best friend fell deeper and deeper into the clutches of someone who was keen on using him to his best ability. Phone calls going ignored the man’s calls, plans to meet canceled. If you'd have told him that his years-long friendship would have ended over a relationship, Axel would have scoffed. _They were stronger than that. All those memories, wasted? No way._

But it had, and everyday, everytime he glanced at a full-moon, the realization hurt the same. Maybe he'd judged too strongly. Maybe he should have just been a shoulder to cry on. But it was too late now, and somehow, in trying to keep Isa close, he'd pushed him farther and farther away.

For Isa, it'd occurred to him that for Xemnas, it was probably more of a fling, something simple, exciting because it was a bit taboo. Isa’d known, realized, early in their affair when Xemnas failed to make it official and would state that he wasn't interested in a relationship _now_, that it wasn't going to become serious. Isa didn't know why he stayed, but he did.

Maybe it was because he_ liked_ him. He liked the smooth way Xemnas talked, liked his smile and his clean, silver hair. He was smart, he was outspoken, but in a sophisticated way, and though the man always seemed to hold him at arm's length romantically, he somehow always found him when he the most lonely, and he'd make everything better. He really liked that about him, and that, that made it enough. It was enough for him to stay for three years, years of arguments and apologetic kisses, confirmations that now they could be a couple only to be....well....it was enough that Isa could pretend not to mind when Xemnas wouldn't answer his calls, wouldn't tell him where he'd been.

A part of Isa always considered maybe he was to blame for the pain too. Maybe he'd been too naive, maybe he hadn't set enough boundaries. He didn't draw the line then. Instead, it took something more pressing for him to pause.

It was when the new hire came in, a young man named Ienzo. Isa had seen a familiar glimmer in Xemnas’ gaze when he looked to the small, serious-looking employee. It didn't phase him though, not now, not like it would have in the beginning...It was only the momentary of confusion in Ienzo's eyes that made Isa pause, made him see the situation through new eyes.

Had he paused like that during their first encounter? Had he thought: "_Is there something wrong with this_?" before deciding, relenting, to his superior?

And just like that, the fog lifted and there came the sharp shard of disgust, an emotion that quickly turned to realization: _he was replaceable, _always had been. If he left, really truly left, Xemnas still had other organization workers, other subordinates that maybe, too, liked the taboo thought of a relationship with their boss. He was a number in a list. He watched, rigidly, as Xemnas, with that same, entrapping smooth voice, told Ienzo: “We have nicknames here, a team-building thing. How does Zexy sound?” and Isa felt warm shame turn to ice. And Isa, Isa felt ill.

He'd come to resign, a new job, better paying and a higher position, already waited for him. He thought the change would be good for their relationship too, maybe they could be more serious now that the ethics weren't as pressing. But clearly, Xemnas had other plans, and Isa, as he watched the encounter, saw a color he hadn't seen of, thought of, in a long time.

Isa saw red.

He’d stepped up to Xemnas, letter in hand, and with a glance at Ienzo, said: “Look into the openings at Radiant Gardens Laboratories Inc., I am sure they could use someone of your caliber.”

And he’d left, moving on with his life, one best friend and one boyfriend short. By then, a thin web of shame blocked any attempts at reconciliation towards Axel. It'd been years, the man had probably moved on with his life. And then of course, there were the thoughts. _Why hadn’t he listened to Axel all those years ago? Was it because, for once, he wanted to be the friend that was making the bad choices? That he’d wanted to be the rebellious one for once?_

Isa himself didn’t know, and he didn’t want to call Axel to ask.

“Demyx is doing pretty good out here in the music scene you know,” Axel was saying, and Isa felt calm as he looked into those familiar green eyes.

He’d missed them. He’d missed _him_.

“If you’re ever in town again we should go together. Support our little bandmate.”

Isa finished his tea and smiled, the memories dissipating in the warmth. Maybe their friendship wasn’t dead after all.

  
* * *

Riku spent the rest of the weekend packing up his apartment, his offer on the condo in Radiant Gardens secured. In two weeks’ time he’d be out of Twilight Town and wouldn’t have to worry about running into Sora or any Nort Industries employees. Saix helped with the packing, almost seeming happy as he neatly stacked the boxes, and Ienzo arrived after two days of absence, seeming chirper.

“Where have you been?” Riku asked, tapping one of the boxes.

“Around.” Ienzo all but hummed as he leaned against the couch. “How was the art show?”

Isa watched as Riku grimaced and felt a stab of pity. He didn’t know what had occurred after Sora and Riku had gone out for their ice cream odyssey, but whatever had happened, it had hurt Riku, had sent the man, quiet and dejected, into a state of few words and noddings. There was silence, and Ienzo paused, confusion alight in his eyes, and quickly, Isa spoke, his voice neutral and smooth.

“I bought six paintings,” He nodded towards the canvas, ordained in brown wrapping paper. “It was a good time.”

Ienzo’s eyes never left Riku, but he didn’t speak. With a small nod, he began building boxes alongside the other two men, and in silence, they packed up Riku’s apartment.

Life passed slowly the next two weeks, the apartment turning into a barren land of boxes. As Riku walked through the packaged hallway, he remembered all the college nights he’d spent there. Noctis burning food in the kitchen, grumbling for his childhood chef, Ignis. Prompto excitedly trying to take a group picture of the three of them. It was bittersweet, but it was time to let go. His last day in the apartment, Ienzo and Isa arrived, touting cartons of Chinese food and drinks. They sat in the empty living room, the couch already on its way to Radiant Gardens, the only things left being Riku’s old television, which he was just going to “donate” to the apartment complex, his laptop, and a few stray pillow and blankets.

They watched television together, drinking idly, eating their Chinese food and offering quiet comments about the show. Riku opened his laptop, food abandoned, a feeling of determination alight within him. _Time to let go._

He typed in the web address for the Twilight Town Missed Connections page, wondering if maybe he could just, _delete_ his previous post. It wasn’t like Sora had even seen it, what point did it have staying up on the internet? He didn’t need someone screenshotting it and blasting it on social media, questioning who the poor anonymous sap was.

But that changed when the page loaded and Riku took in the newest missed connection post, his heart beating wildly.

_We had a misunderstanding at Disney Town Ice Cream, and we left without saying goodbye. I want to open Pandora’s Box, I like you Can Guy. Not Platonically. That “something” we discussed, it’s never going to happen, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I thought that if I figured it all out, maybe you wouldn’t have even needed to know. My phone isn’t the best way to reach me right now, I’ll be where we first met, at the same time, on Monday._

Riku read the message over once, twice, three times, a small smile growing with each repetition.

“Riku, look.” Isa’s voice was stern, the tv seeming to blare over his voice.

“Isa turn down the tv, please,” Riku responded, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering madly.

“Riku, _look_.”

Riku, expression annoyed, looked to the television and everything seemed to go quiet. It was, undeniably, the worst and best thing he’d seen all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Axel: Dating your boss is a bad idea  
Isa: What if I do it anyway.  
Our sweet boy Sora finally learned how to use a computer, bless.


	5. A Paopu Fruit Worthy Special Occasion

Namine cared for Sora just as strongly as he cared for her, maybe even more so. Watching him cry over Riku was enough to rouse a long-dormant fire within herself; it sparked before roaring to life, brightly and brilliantly, as she patted the man's back.

That night, after she’d said her goodbyes and dried Sora's tears, she went to see Ms. Aqua, hoping, praying that the law office was still open. Her lone footsteps were loud against the barren streets, her sigh of relief as she spotted the blue-haired lawyer closing the office doors seeming to echo. The young blonde stepped forward quickly, her voice quiet, polite, apologetic, as she addressed the esteemed woman. Eyes widening in recognition, Aqua unlocked the office doors once more before beckoning to the young heiress. They sat back under the glow of her desk lamp, Aqua listening to the young woman present her case evenly, all the evidence and proof she’d collected over the years splayed across the large mahogany desk. Namine hadn't told Sora about these plans, some still budding loyalty to her father warning her not to expose the fraud and illegal activity...but now, _now_, was the time. Sora had aided her when she'd needed him, had always been a gentle shoulder to cry on, and likewise, she'd been there for him. But now, unlike then, he was _suffering_ for her benefit, and that's where she drew the line. That’s where Namine put _her_ foot down.

Aqua listened as the young woman finished her speech and pushed the documents forward. The young lawyer nodded along slowly, picking through the pile of evidence, and with a flick of her hair, she smiled.

“This case will be easy,” she said with a reassuring smile. “I've got you covered.”

And that’s how two weeks later, after serving her father with the legal documents, Namine stood at the podium, flanked by a tall woman with radiant blue hair, and told the public the truth about the CEO.

“I’m suing my father, the head of Hollow Bastion Enterprise, for emotional distress,” she was saying, her voice radiating in her own ears. The woman by her side gripped her shoulder in support. “I am acting as the spokesperson for his employees, they have informed me that my father, knowingly, engaged in shady and illegal business practices."

Namine's words, a catalyst, rocked Hollow Bastion Enterprise's stocks. Shareholders pulled out quickly, phone calls were made, ties cut, and her words riled up other lawsuits, both individual and class-orientated. Hollow Bastion Enterprise crumbled before Riku's eyes, his mouth agape as he looked to the news, and Namine thought of her friend, her dearest friend, and smiled as the chains of betrothal that held Sora and her together broke, fragmenting just as the company had.

Namine’s declaration was all over the news even into the next day. As Ienzo, Isa, and Riku finished packing up the Chocobo Haul, the radio chattered endlessly about how Hallow Bastion Enterprise’s employees were quitting in droves, and the CEO, Ansem Wise, had barricaded himself in his office, alleging that “_I’m_ not Ansem, _I’m_ DiZ, I would never force my daughter into any sort of marriage or distressing situation!”

* * *

Riku lingered outside of his empty apartment as Ienzo leaned out the window of the moving truck.

“Are we going?” he called. Riku shook his head, covering his eyes against the glare of the sun.

“Drive without me, I’ll catch up with you guys. I have some things I have to patch up here in Twilight Town.”

Ienzo gave a short snort before muttering to Isa. Isa barely spared Riku a second glance as the truck roared to life, taking all Riku’s possessions away with a rumble. Riku stood alone in the parking lot, leaning against his car, wondering what he’d do for the next eight hours until midnight.

He decided to _chill_. He went to Noctis’ house, lounged across his furniture, complained about his cooking, and played his video games. He went to the coffeeshop Demyx worked at and talked idly with the man about his upcoming shows. And then, he drove to the supermarket and _waited_. Waited as the sun set and the stars breathed to life, waited as the streetlights flickered on and the once busy lot began to dwindle. He was too energized to doze, to overcome with anticipation to keep himself from glancing at the time every few minutes. As midnight rolled closer, his fingers tapping impatiently on the dash, he continued to wait. Really, that's all he could do. 

The moment finally came when his waiting ceased. He no longer had to wait when he saw that beaten-up van drive up, he was already slamming the door of his car when he saw Sora climb out. Riku stood, for a moment, bashful, and Sora looked to him, that familiar smile already spreading across his face. He jogged over, and Riku met him halfway, both looking to each other with an air of joy, their eyes shining like the stars overhead.

“You saw my post on the Missed Connections page,” Sora grinned broadly. Riku nodded, almost at a loss for words. He found them, quickly and gently, and when he spoke, his tone was sure. 

“I like you too.” 

Sora beamed up at him, eyes mellowing as Riku's hand gripped around his waist. “Did you see _my_ post?”

Sora, with a shy nod, smiled wider. “Of course, I did.”

“You could have texted me about it you know.”

“I think my grandpa bugged my phone...Wouldn’t be the first time, I didn't want to chance it…” He shrugged, wondering if he'd even needed to say that. Was it really important? Weren’t they right here, right now, together, expressing how they felt without fear for the future?

Riku seemed to think the same thing, because he smiled at Sora and leaned in to kiss the man’s forehead.

  
* * *

Axel didn’t know how he felt as Riku drove behind him. Didn't know how he felt that Sora had invited the other man, someone he’d known for only about a month _maybe_, to his apartment _for the night_. A storm of protectiveness was brewing as Axel looked back at the other vehicle, but he stilled himself. Sora was a grown man, he could take care of himself. And Riku hadn’t seemed _too_ bad, in ways he was like a Baby Isa, stoic but gentle....but then again....Sora had_ just_ gotten out of an engagement less than fifteen hours prior, he needed to just..._chill out_.

Axel typed in the code for the gate and looked to his rearview window again, watched as Sora excitedly spoke to Riku. The laughter was silent, but Sora seemed to be on cloud nine, all smiles and hurried conversation. Axel didn’t bother them as Riku parked and Sora, hand wrapped in his, led the man to his apartment. He watched them go, willing Sora to _please, make good decisions_.

Sora’s apartment was adorned with fairy lights and succulents galore, he even had a small palm tree on his patio. Riku wondered if it'd bare tiny paopu fruits. It was a small, but cozy, apartment, and as Sora led Riku to the bedroom with a little bow as he presented the bed, Riku paused. With a smile, Sora quickly left to the kitchen to retrieve _something, _and the stillness evolved, brewing into a wave of anxiety.

This was all moving _really_ fast.

He hadn’t even fully kissed the man yet, what was Sora expecting out of him?

This wasn’t to say that Riku didn’t have any _experience_. He’d been quite the Casanova throughout high school and college; a different day, a different person his usual style. He’d been very domineering in his youth, had found a thrill in the chase and liked the way his words could spark red cheeks and labored breath. But now, he relished in enjoying the small things, cuddling on the couch, waking up and having breakfast together....What would Sora say if Riku admitted that things were progressing a little too quickly for him?

Surprisingly, he didn’t have to.

Sora walked into the room with a mug of hot chocolate and plopped down with a smile.

“I’ll sleep on the couch since you have to leave early for work,” he handed the mug to Riku. “You don’t have to worry about waking me up or anything, I’m a deep sleeper.”

Riku blinked slowly. Sora seemed blissfully unaware of how it all must have looked: bringing a strange, mystery man home in the middle of the night. He chuckled, the mug warm in his hands, and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Sora’s. Sora accepted the gesture of affection readily, closing his eyes and smiling.

“What’s that?” Riku asked, looking to the large vase alongside Sora’s bed. It was almost overflowing with money, stacks of bills and coins pressed against the glass walls. Sora followed his gaze.

“That’s my Destiny Islands fund,” he murmured. “I almost have enough money to get a ticket home.”

Riku went to speak, to tell the man that if he wanted a vacation to Destiny Islands, he could just _give_ him a room, free of charge, at his grandparents’ resort, but found himself interrupted by a low clanging, metallic sound. They both stilled, and Sora’s eyes flickered to the hallway.

He _knew_ that sound.

It was the mail slot on the door...but it was so late...too late for a delivery. Sora rose, beckoning for Riku to drink the hot chocolate as he went to investigate, his brow furrowed in confusion.

He regretted checking.

On the ground by the front door was a small, wrapped object. Sora had to fight to keep from groaning.

A condom. And another one was timidly being shoved through the slot.

Sora opened the door quickly, face a brilliant shade of magenta. Axel was sitting on his haunches, hands _overflowing_ with condoms, and he looked to Sora with an apologetic smile.

“Hey kiddo, just wanted to make sure you were being safe.”

The redness in Sora’s face rivaled only the hue of Axel’s hair.

“We’re not doing anything, I’m sleeping on the couch,” the words came quickly, and through the panic, sounded like a badly-constructed lie. “I just thought it’d be better, you know, if he stayed with me tonight instead of driving three hours to Radiant Garden.”

Axel rose, handed Sora a condom before stepping away, and sauntered to his own apartment. “Whatever. Have a good night Sora.”

Sora watched him go, the embarrassment mixed with a budding feeling of gratitude.

  
* * *

As Riku headed out the door the next morning, the sun barely budding over the hills, he looked to the sleeping Sora affectionately. The man was strewn sloppily across the sofa, his bed hair only vaguely different from its styled appearance. He quietly walked over to him, leaning down and looking to the disheveled state of his host.

“Thank you.”

Sora didn’t respond, ten miles deep in dreamland, but Riku felt pleased all the same. He exited the apartment just as Roxas was coming home; they passed one another on the stairs and, with an air of surprise, the young blond gave a short, timid wave. Riku returned the greeting with a curt nod, and they continued as they were.

Riku was all-smiles as he drove the work, his mood not subsiding even as he strolled into the building, the fluorescent lights harsh and the sound of a copy-machine shrill.

“We put all your boxes in your condo Riku,” Ienzo muttered. “_You’re welcome_.”

“I owe you big time Ienzo, I mean it,” Riku called as he donned his lab coat. “You’re an absolute gem.”

“Oh, I know I am Riku,” Ienzo fastened the goggles over his face. “I know.”

And as time does, days passed into weeks, weeks into months, and each Friday, Riku anxiously waited for the night. Friday nights were _date_ nights, the beginnings of Sora’s weekly visits, and this Friday, Riku had decided it was time to cook; no more elaborate and expensive dinner dates, no more pizza nights on the living room floor. Coming home from work, bags of ingredients in his arms, he readily prepared his famed Breaded Cutlet with Tomato. Or should he say, _Ignis’ _famed Breaded Cutlet with Tomato. Either way, he knew how to prepare it, and he was going to prepare it _perfectly_. It’d been four months now since the fated supermarket meeting, and tonight, he was going to ask Sora to be his boyfriend. It seemed the right time, Sora already had a key to Riku’s condo and vice-versa, it was a wonder he hadn’t asked the young man already.

Just as he took the food from the oven the lock turned loudly and his esteemed guest arrived. _Sora. _Riku turned, oven mitt still covering his hand, a smile already plastered on his face, his heart beating wildly. He was taken aback by the grinning, cat-eyed redhead that peaked into the entryway as Sora, as always, walked in with an excited air about him.

“I’m just the chauffeur don’t worry,” Axel said, smirking. “I have my own things to deal with.” There was a knowing wink before Axel turned back to Sora. He spoke softly with the brunette before leaving, and finally, _thank God_, the two were left alone.

Sora sat on the kitchen counter as Riku finished platting the food. He watched the man's movements, taking in the precision as the chicken was placed _just right_ on the plate. Haphazardly, Sora set his small gift onto the counter, the tin clanging against the granite counter. A can of paopu fruit scrawled with Riku's handwriting.

"Let's eat some for dessert?" Sora asked, and he looked to Riku, a shared smile between them, desire sparking and twinning together like yearning ivy. There was a gentle nod, and then a small, affectionate chuckle. 

After their meal, both of them too full for paopu, Sora meandered lazily over to Riku’s living room and began rummaging through the DVD collection. Riku watched him with drooping eyes, the question prickling at his tongue. _Ask him now_. There came a gasp, and Riku's eyes widened slightly. Sora turned, _Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children_ in hand, eyes gleaming.

“Roxas and Ventus’ cousin stars in this,” Sora chirped. “Cloud Strife.”

“That’s literally the worst movie I own.” Riku leaned into the couch.

“But he’s their _cousin_ Riku, which means he’s basically _our_ cousin. We’re all in the same group.”

Sora plopped down onto the couch, comfortably curling against Riku’s chest, a sweetness in the arbitrary closeness. Sitting there together, with his head leaning his head against Sora’s hair, felt like sanctuary, and, not wanting to spoil the moment with words or possible refusals, Riku held onto his question.

As the night gently came to life, Riku's eyes began to droop. Maybe it was all the chicken, maybe it was the overwhelming relaxation of spending time with Sora, or maybe it was because _Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children _has _a_ score of 33% on Rotten Tomatoes, but either way, Riku fell asleep fifteen minutes into the movie. That was fine with Sora, even better actually, because it meant that when he finally began to tire himself, he could lean back and rest in Riku’s arms.

  
* * *

It was the text that ruined it.

It shined in the dark of the apartment, the windows drawn, not allowing the light of dawn to filter into the two men’s eyes as they slept, entangled, on the couch. Sora, surprisingly, had woken up before Riku, was enjoying lazily dozing in the other's arms, when the phone flashed to life, the light sharp against the darkness. Wearily, he checked the message, began to lean away from his companion as he reread the text, rising slowly with each word. Being quieter than he’d ever been, Sora left the apartment and walked to the parking lot where the black car was waiting for him. He opened the door, anger bubbling as he looked to the man in the backseat.

“Sit down Vanitas,” Xehanort said with a smile. “We need to talk.”

  
* * *

Riku awoke to an empty apartment, the warmth of Sora long gone from his chest. It wasn’t odd for Sora to leave to do something in Radiant Garden, it was the entire reason Riku had given the man the spare key. The most likely scenario was that he was out getting donuts for breakfast.

Riku checked his phone, it was 10 AM and he had 25 missed messages. They were all from Ienzo and Isa, some cordial, others demanding.

_Stay home._

_Don’t come to the weekend business meeting._

It wasn’t like Riku had _planned_ on going anyway. Monthly, they’d have one weekend where they’d get together on a _Saturday_ to drone on and on about expense reports and areas of improvement. He’d already asked for the day off, explaining that he had _prior engagements_ to attend to. He didn’t see what the point of the dramatics.

That was until he flicked on the morning news, balking at what he saw. 

Nort Industries had bought out Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc. He was officially an employee under Xehanort Yami.

  
* * *

“I allowed you to drop out of college, I allowed you to pursue this frivolous career as an artist,” Xehanort’s tone wasn’t angry, instead it was patronizing, as though he were scolding a child. “It’s time you stepped up as one of the future heads of this family and take your rightful name.”

They were seated in Xehanort’s new office at Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc. and Sora was filled with disgust. The room reeked of _money_, a dark hardwood desk with gold trim, long burgundy curtains with shining silk threading. What was the point of all this boastful affluence? Didn't this company focus on scientific advancement? Of course, flaunting money had its benefits. The CEO of Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc, Vexen Kori, had folded so easily under the sales agreement. He’d practically been drooling when the almost infinite amount of zeros on the final check was discussed. Sora could almost imagine it...with an annoyed glance, Sora realized: the price of the curtains alone could have paid off all of his debt to Axel. 

Sora glared at the old man. _Rightful name. What an ass._ He rose from the chair. _I've walked away from this asshole thousands of times, I can do it for the rest of my life._

“I own Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc.,” Xehanort said curtly as his grandson retreated. “That brilliant duo, Riku and Ienzo, it would be a shame to fire them, especially since their research in Dark Matter is partially the reason I acquired this company. There's plenty of misconduct to report I'm sure, all it'll take is for me to find the papers.”

“You’ve become close with that Riku haven’t you Vanitas,” Xehanort continued, looking to the curtains with narrowed, almost tired, eyes. “I know, you don’t have to lie. I've seen it all Vanitas. I should not have allowed you to be raised on that island, it mad you...," he paused, lost in thought, his words becoming quieter. "Vanitas, you are my family, that is non-negotiable. Even if you go by Hikari you _are_ of Yami descendant. I won't penalize Riku, he's an asset, but Braig...Braig might see things differently." Xehanort rose from his seat, walked forward, put a hand to his grandson's shoulder.

Sora paused, a cold sweat prickling down his neck. _A threat._

_A horrifying threat..._

“Now let me ask you again, what is your name?”

Sora said it slowly, allowed it to pull at his heart, to draw heavily on his tongue.

“Vanitas.”

  
* * *

Riku rushed to Ienzo’s apartment, anger ripe and rigid through his body. Xehanort owned the company? What did that mean? How had the three largest companies somehow merged into one in the span of four months!? Xehanort had hired most of the employees from Hollow Bastion Enterprise, and now he'd bought out Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc.? The sheer ambition of the elderly CEO was captivating, _frightening_ even.

Ienzo’s apartment overlooked the bustling streets of Radiant Gardens. Riku anxiously twiddled his fingers in the elevator, and when it came to Ienzo’s floor he all but sprinted to the man’s residence. He knocked loudly, the unceasing poundings seeming to rattle the frame, the passing of time seeming to slow as his anger deepened. After a few hard raps, Riku was about to turn to yelling, but Ienzo’s exasperated face appeared through the crack of the door.

“Riku, _calm down._” 

“How can I _calm down_ when we’re employed under someone who wants to abuse our research?” Riku hissed as Ienzo beckoned for him to enter the apartment. “We’ve worked so hard to understand Dark Matter and this guy just wants it so he can have his fantasy monopoly on harvest Dark Matter and using it as some...some...elixir of life or something!”

“The Heartless Theory hasn't even been proven yet Riku,” Ienzo said evenly, motioning for Riku to sit at the table. “You’re getting worried about hypotheses that haven’t even been proven yet. When I told you not to come to the meeting, I didn’t think you’d get so freaked out. I was giving you a warning in case Xehanort tried to bombard you with questions.” 

“I don’t want to work under someone who’s as unethical as Xehanort Ienzo,” Riku groaned loudly, his head falling into splayed hands. “This is _terrible_! I’m going to quit I swear to God.”

Ienzo faltered, his eyebrows knitting together, blue eyes flashing with worry, the look, short and sweet, enough to draw a twinge of guilt from Riku. They were partners after-all, his work was Ienzo’s work and vice-versa. Losing one of them would be like losing half of a body, quitting would mean Ienzo would be left fumbling alone. 

“Look on the bright side Riku. I’ve heard Xehanort pays his employees _really_ well.”

Riku looked up, taking in the sight of a half-naked Demyx. The man had a towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp from the shower, a relaxed smile wide on his face. He journeyed to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Oh yea, Demyx is here,” Ienzo said curtly. “He has a show tonight.”

“You should come Riku, get your mind off of all this work stuff. It's the _weekend_, worry about it on Monday,” Demyx hummed as he leaned against the kitchen counter, the cup of coffee steaming in his hands. “Bring Sora, it’ll be fun. My old bandmates Isa and Axel will be there too, we’ll have a great time.”

_It’s a small world_, Riku thought, rubbing his hands through his hair anxiously. _It was almost as though were a limited cast in an ever-shrinking universe_.

“Sounds...fun,” Riku murmured, his mind going to what would come in two days. Would Isa still be his boss? What did Xehanort have planned for his and Ienzo’s research?

“Where is Sora anyway,” Demyx asked. “I’ve been dying to meet the guy.”

Riku’s mind stilled. That was a good question. Where _was_ Sora?

  
* * *

When Riku returned to the apartment the air was sweet and warm. Sora stood in the kitchen, hands grasping the counter, eyes intently watching the oven. There was something off with his smile, something vacant in his eyes as he looked to Riku, the blue seemingly fogged with emotion. He smiled all the same, and Riku walked forward, giving his companion a gentle peck on the cheek.

“I’m making some paopu cake,” Sora said gently. “It’s my mom’s recipe.”

Riku pulled Sora into a hug, relishing in the sweet smell of the dessert and the warmth of the other man. Did Sora already know about the company buyout? How would he feel, knowing that his boyfriend was working for a man they both despised? Boyfriend. _Shit. _Riku still hadn’t asked.

“I was thinking,” Riku spoke quietly. “About quitting my job.”

  
Sora’s heart stilled. _Quitting his job? Lose all that research? Studies compiled over years and years for what?_

“We could just get out of here,” Riku continued. “Move somewhere totally different. Even back to Destiny Islands. I could teach at the community college and you could—”

_For me._

_He knows about the buyout. _

Sora’s kiss was gentle, his hands brushing Riku’s cheeks as he wrapped his arms around the man's neck. If he was trying to keep Riku from talking it worked, because one kiss melted into two, and then two into four. Riku’s hand gripped Sora’s waist, and then his thigh as he hosted his soon-to-be boyfriend onto the kitchen counter. There was a chuckle, and then an almost insistent bite on Riku’s bottom lip, the gentle drawl of a tongue that gave way to a more heated exchange. Riku’s hands, gently, drew over the inside of Sora’s leg.

_I really like him_.

The loyalty to the research, to Ienzo, all seemed to pale in comparison to the man that now sat before him, kissing him insistently. Riku had realized this, the strength of his newfound loyalty, as he'd driven back to his apartment, worry spiking as Sora didn't respond to his texts. Hearing Sora's laughter was enough to say leave it all, enough to dampen what he had once thought were his lifetime's ambitions. He had new plans now, different ideas, and he wanted, desired, a future where Sora was apart of them.

Riku drew back for a short moment, looking to the gentle pink hue of Sora’s cheek before firmly placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder. _The physical desire was nice too. _

He meant to push his companion back, to lean him farther away, hands already prepared to undo their belts, but that wasn’t what occurred.

Riku had been smooth once, but that ship had sailed long ago.

Sora’s head banged against the cabinet, the sound loud and sharp. _Fuck._

Sora didn’t yelp, only grasped his head and gave a gentle, pained moan. Not the kind of moan Riku had meant to summon. Sora pressed his forehead into Riku’s chest, shaking, and Riku buried his face into the man’s hair.

“Shit, let me see.” Riku's voice was sharp, apologetic, as he coaxed Sora to raise his head. 

Sora took a moment to collect himself before he looked to Riku, the ebbing pain in his eyes subsiding as the smile on his face grew. There came a short giggle, and then the shakings of laughter. Riku kissed the brunette's forehead and mumbled gentle "sorry"s as Sora continued to laugh. Tears pooled from his eyes, and Riku chuckled along, something pure and tender in their awkwardness. 

They only pulled apart when the stove chimed, not bothering to move to living room as they freed the dessert from its warm prison. They ate the paopu cake straight from the baking pan as they sat on the kitchen floor, both concealing a secret, both hating the cabinet for disrupting an otherwise good time.

“Our destinies are intertwined,” Sora joked, waving his fork leisurely. Riku smiled. _Now_ he could ask.

“You’re my sanctuary Sora,” he murmured and Sora looked to him quickly, cheeks already returning to that pretty pink hue. “Not to make this too formal but, I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”

Riku had expected a hug. Something affectionate, a warm yes and an even warmer kiss. But when Sora turned away, his expression distant, Riku realized maybe he’d been too hasty.

“I’m going away for school Riku,” The energy shifted, what had once been a cozy moment became low, quiet. Sora's voice was distant and hard-to-hear, as though the man himself didn’t want to listen to what he was saying. “Daybreak Town University.”

Riku blinked. That was random. And far. Sora had only considered Radiant Garden history from what he knew, but maybe he'd chosen something distant because of his grandfather's influence.

“That’s good,” Riku fought to sound encouraging, pitching his voice with a smile. “Majoring in Art?”

Sora shook his head. “No, Business Administration and Political Science.”

The paopu tasted bitter on Riku’s tongue. With a gentle hand, he turned Sora’s face, looking to the man with a furrowed brow. Sora’s eyes were distant, a storm brewing in those ocean eyes, and the anger from the morning began to rekindle. 

“You don’t want to do that.”

Sora narrowed his eyes, sharpness budding in his tone. “I’m from a business-orientated family, with my grandfather getting older it wouldn’t be fair to burden Terra with everything.”

“It’s not _fair_ for you to live your life according to someone else’s wishes,” Riku retorted. “Is this related to Xehanort acquiring Radiant Garden Laboratories Inc.?”

“So what if it is?” 

“Did he threaten you?”

Sora had never heard such bile in Riku’s voice and when he looked to the man, he saw darkened fury. A dangerous, calculated rage was rolling from him, and his eyes were narrowed, almost dragon-like. The air was frigid with tension, and Sora leaned his head back against the cabinet, the wood cool against his head.

“Can we just go back to kissing?” He timidly ate a spoonful of cake.

“Sora, you have to tell your grandfather that he can’t control your life like this,” There was pleading in Riku's voice and Sora felt a flash of _déjà vu_. 

They looked to one another, and Sora’s expression softened as he took in the intensity of his companion's eyes, those teal pools of power and strength. Sora traced each strand of silver hair, took in the swirling jade glances, looked to the lips he never wanted to stop kissing, and the skin that always felt so soft under his palm. Should he say that when he’d wept earlier, they hadn’t been tears of laughter, but of pain? Would that be too cruel of a blow? Could it be any crueler than what he was handing the man now?

Sora leaned forward and kissed the man he'd been so happy to wake up beside; a tender peck, the sweetness of paopu still on both their lips.

“It’s Vanitas now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Namine was ten steps ahead the whole time.
> 
> Riku right now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBUz2nkOKsc


	6. Old Band Mates and New Boyfriends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's an AkuSai chapter because KH3 made me a believer.  
Drunk Isa just wants to have a good time.

The glow of the tea lights lit the faces of the crowd as the sound of the sitar tinkled on, a low romantic melody that lulled the spectators into a drowsy-sort of euphoria. Demyx’s usual excitable nature was subdued in the dim light, a small smile on his face as he continued to play, the crowd scarcely seeming to breathe or touch their utensils as though fearful that the slightest bit of noise would disrupt the siren-like man on stage.

There was a stroke of pride within Axel, a budding warmth and almost paternal smile as he watched his former bandmate charm the crowd. Isa looked from his dinner partner to the rest of the room, seeing the same admiration reflected in the eyes of the spectators. Demyx was _good_, that much was undebatable, but it’d take a lot more than a few pretty chord progressions to make Isa unfurl and relax.

Demyx finished his set with a small, if not playful, bow, and grinned as the bouts of applause erupted. He pulled his sitar forward, leaned it down as though it too were bowing, and exited the stage with a slight bounce in his step.

“Our baby boy’s still got it,” Axel said with a sigh, finally picking at his plate of chicken. It’d long gone cold, and Isa suppressed his inclination to smirk as Axel grimaced. Isa’s plate was picked clean, he’d probably been the only one eating during Demyx’s set, and as the songs continued on he’d taken to sipping at his wine. He was now on his fourth glass.

"He’s done quite well for himself,” Isa was already beginning to feel the beginnings of drunkness; his mind swirled as he talked and he felt the first waves of fatigue. He stilled himself before finishing his sentence, taking a deep breath and leaning against his arms for support. Axel raised his eyebrows, taunting already hot on his tongue, and Isa spoke quickly before the other man could cut in. “This restaurant is high-class, I didn’t expect he’d have such esteemed clientele.”

“Yowch, can you say: back-handed compliment?” Axel quipped, and Isa waved his hand in exasperation, movements slackened and droopy.

“The last I saw of him he was playing in coffee shops, not in five-star restaurants. I am proud of him, this is quite the accomplishment.” He motioned to the decor of the room, to the imported curtains and the fountain in the entry-way of the restaurant, the sweet sounds of flowing water an ever-lulling melody. Axel shrugged, _plenty of places had fountains_, and Isa pointed to the other clientele, to their dress jackets, slacks, pressed dresses, and glistening jewelry.

“Why the hell did they even let me in here,” Axel muttered to himself, his casual black t-shirt stark against the air of upper-society. “I bet they’re absolutely shitting themselves about it.”

Isa nodded, and Axel chuckled, returning to his cold chicken while Isa returned to his glass. It’d been years since he'd drank himself into a state of inebriation, and a part of him, he didn't know why, craved it. He hadn’t seen the world through dizzy, befuddled eyes since…Xemnas really. The thought brought more sips, hurried by the sudden realization, and Axel watched, eyes narrowing as he chewed his food.

Being drunk, for Isa, had long been associated with sadness, the rigid hold of abandonment, the frenzied whispers that there’d, eventually, be others. Only when he was drunk did he allow himself to feel, to sob, to mourn the death of a relationship that he’d wanted more than anything to flourish. Drunkness meant panicked gasps over the toilet bowl, all the alcohol he’d spent hours drinking sinking into the swirling water. His thoughts would come loud and repeating, like some hellish mantra: _Do not go back to him. Do not go back to him._

_It wasn't like Xemnas even wanted him though._

_That_ hurt more than anything else.

It was those nights, all those years ago, when he'd last been drunk. The memories were still fresh and clear, Isa could almost feel the cool touch of the tile floor against his cheek. The words he spoke to himself, gentle murmurs, still rang in his ears: _One day, there'll be others._ _Others who will treat you better, love you better, others who won't leave you feeling as though you lack._ His others, whoever they were, would appreciate his coldness, his introversion, his quiet disposition.

It was appalling, when Isa looked back on it, that _that_ had been the most hurtful thing Xemnas had said to him, more-so than the cheating even. In the beginning, it’d been the very trait that he’d been complimented on. When had "I like that you keep to yourself” turned to “Your reserved nature is quite...boring” When had Isa's reserved nature become detrimental, a sign of faulty? Because now, he was, some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, alone with his quietness and reservation and no one to call. He had nobody to come to his aid, to drag him from the bathroom floor and into bed. He'd drag himself to bed, barely making it under the comforter before he fell asleep, and the next morning he’d go to work, back straight, an alert presence about him, his coworkers none the wiser to the throbbing of his head and the churning of his stomach. _He'd been too naive..._

He did this for weeks, the weekends the worst. The hangovers, the near-constant throbbing of his head, was better than the humiliation in his heart, and it numbed the loneliness all the same.

He probably would have continued until he wasn't able to hide it anymore. He was _close_, painfully close to his breaking point, when a small saving grace, in the form of one of his employees, occurred. It was a car breaking down, an offer for a place to stay, and Isa realized alcohol was becoming a dependency. He'd called the towing company for Riku and they'd driven home in silence. He'd ushered the silver-haired employee into the apartment, helped him get comfortable on the pull-out couch, and Isa, with a sense of panic, realized he couldn't drink in front of this man. He scarcely heard the whispered thanks as he retreated to his room, his attention squarely on his shaking hands and dry mouth. Riku, without even knowing, made Isa realize that he had a problem.

It’d taken counseling, the understanding that he was heading down the path of alcoholism, and a great deal of gentleness, but he’d pulled through. He spoke to his therapist regularly, found other ways to cope (the moon became his dearest companion because even if he was alone, she'd always be there too). He rarely drank as the years went on, a fear that inebriation would resurface the pain, a feeling that, even still, resided, as though waiting, in his heart...

But that was then, and this was now. Another sip, another glance, and Isa knew what was different, what had changed, as he looked into those cat-like green eyes. Now, unlike then, he had Axel. He drank now not to mask pain, but because....he didn't know....maybe some long-overdue payback? Isa looked to Axel, a smirk playing at his lips. Who’d spent most of their college years puking in alleyways and groaning on Isa’s couch the next morning? Who’d, even after they broke up, would call Isa after every drunken date, would lay out all the gritty details and ask for clear-headed reflection? And plus, Isa realized, the smirk faltering into tenderness, with Axel, he wasn't worried about the pain. Axel was someone who preferred conversation over the cold shoulder. Someone who talked about the past just as freely as they talked about the future. If Isa broke down, Axel wouldn't judge him; he'd probably, at worst, roll his eyes. The red-head had always been a friend first, a lover second, and Isa, as he went to pour another glass and Axel, gently, moved the bottle away, realized that’s what he needed, had desperately craved for._ A friend._ Someone who would take him home, tuck him into bed, would even leave a glass of water on the bed stand, and come the next morning would tease him relentlessly about it. Someone who, if he did cry, would listen, and without a doubt, would stay.

Plus, it was Isa's turn to let loose.

He allowed Axel to take the wine bottle and smiled; a drunken, small perk of mischievous energy. He hadn’t known, hadn’t realized, that he was tired of being stoic, straight-laced. With just the right amount of alcohol, he was going to let himself have _fun_. Axel had known him once, and Demyx would most likely be thrilled to see Isa in a drunken state. Demyx had been the one to send the wine, wouldn't he be surprised to see that the ever-composed Isa had finally learned to throw caution to the wind? He had always seen him with some level of apathy, and Isa was so ready to unwind…

“Isa?”

All too late, and all too much wine already ingested, did Isa realize that someone he'd rather only see somber was there.

* * *

Ienzo hadn’t expected to see his boss so soon after work, let alone buzzed. He didn’t know what had compelled him to rise from the bar, bashfully slinking over, when he’d seen the flash of blue hair. He stood now by their table, not knowing whether to pull up a chair or continue standing, and tried to stifle the amused chuckle as he looked to the flush of his superior’s cheeks. Isa turned, balancing himself against the swirling world, speaking slowly as he attempted to keep the slurring to a minimum. _Shit_. He'd overdone it.

“Aw, Ienzo, hello.”

Across from Isa sat a man who seemed to exist in direct opposition to Ienzo’s stoic boss. At Isa's attempts to feign sobriety he smirked and gave Ienzo a playful shrug. There was a lively gleam in his eyes, a curtness to his smirk, a deviancy in the black (tattoos?) on his upper cheeks. Isa’s tone and mannerisms, subdued and glacial, didn’t melt under the man’s fiery movements as he leaned towards Ienzo, hand outstretched, voice too loud for the lavish restaurant.

“I’m Axel, Isa’s babysitter for the night.”

There was a growl, and Axel’s smile grew. Ienzo didn’t know whether to smile politely or pull away, he shot half a glance at Isa, trying to gauge if what had been spoken was a personal offense. He expected there to be a glare, a look of disdain, but found only continued mellowness.

“It’s not often we run into each other...like this,” Isa mused, ignoring Axel’s comment as he looked to Ienzo. _Oh God_. The words even sounded slurred to him. Double shit. He'd overdone it. “Have you already....ordered? Come join us.”

Ienzo shook his head quickly, biting his inner cheek to keep from smirking. “I’m actually heading out now, I’ve just been hanging out by the bar.”

Isa seemed genuinely disheartened by the words, the smallest traces of an uncharacteristic pout surfacing. There was a fondness, an almost brotherly tenderness between the two of them, and Isa wanted nothing more, at that moment, than to make sure that his indifferent companion was alright.

“Are you alone on a Friday night Ienzo? Do not worry, we can...keep you...company.”

Axel choked on the chicken, coughing, as Isa continued to look to Ienzo with an almost mournful gaze. The alcohol was working its magic, and Isa’s softhearted nature was rearing its sentimental head.

Ienzo, on the other hand, turned a faint shade of pink.

“Oh no, no,” he stuttered. “I came to see my partner, he was performing earlier.”

Axel continued to fight for his life against the chicken, and Isa blinked slowly, understanding dawning on him in waves.

“You’re Demyx’s boyfriend?”

* * *

Demyx had been bubbling with excitement when, as he waited outside the restaurant, sitar strung over his shoulder, his pink-faced boyfriend walked to him with Isa and Axel already in tow. They’d met, all on their own, without awkward introductions and forced pleasantries. _Plus_, there was something even more surprising. It’d been years since Demyx had even seen Isa and he’d definitely changed; longer hair, broader-shouldered, walk labored by the effects of _alcohol_.

“You drink now Saix?” How many times had Axel bought them all alcohol just for him and Demyx to be the only ones drinking? How many times had Isa been their designated driver, laying them on their sides with a trashcan prepared while he watched a movie alone? Demyx's plan had worked, and he was internally congratulating himself.

Isa stared at him, and for a moment Demyx thought maybe he hadn’t heard. He cocked his head, went to speak again, but Ienzo squeezed his hand.

“Oh, _Isa_,” Demyx gave an awkward, apologetic chuckle. “You drink now Isa?”

The stare continued, and Demyx bit his lip, _crap, did I do something wrong_? Isa stepped forward, and Axel moved with him, a hand on the man’s shoulder, a guarded expression on his face. Isa moved until he was mere inches from Demyx, and Demyx stood his ground, blinking quickly.

“Demyx…. you’ve gotten so tall….,” Isa held his hand to the bottom of his torso. “You used to be so short…short little guy.”

“Yea he's drunk Dem. He's turned to the booze to supplement the death of creativity since he got that corporate job.” Axel tightened his grip on Isa’s shoulder, and the man gave a faint chuckle, teetering on his feet.

“You know my employee,” Isa blinked slowly and talked even slower as he pointed to Ienzo. “You’re dating him Demyx?”

Demyx nodded quickly, as though he were being scolded by a teacher, and Isa continued his drunken speech.

“He’s precious Demyx, he’s hardworking, so smart….be good to him, cherish him.”

Ienzo finally couldn’t hold the laughter back. Though it was a peep, he chuckled, and his small bit of laughter caused Demyx’s smile to return in all its glory. He tightened his hold on Ienzo’s hand and gave a deliberate, well-meaning nod.

“I will Isa. I’ll cherish him.”

Isa smiled, leaning forward to pat Demyx’s cheek. Demyx took the small sign of affection in stride, almost leaning into the touch, smiling as Axel rolled his eyes.

“You’re so hardworking Demyx, so smart, you played…so beautifully tonight. We're all so proud of you,” Isa murmured, and then looked to Ienzo. “Cherish _him_ Ienzo.”

Ienzo blinked, the hue of pink returning.

“Of course, Isa,” he nodded, and Demyx’s smile broadened.

Isa, just as he’d done before, patted the younger man’s cheek, and leaned back, proud of his work.

“Then it is done.” He nodded, stumbling a little, steadied only by Axel’s patient hand. He looked to the red-haired man, their eyes meeting, acceptance in the depths, and found himself smiling. The patience never seemed to leave Axel’s gaze, the hold never faltering.

Isa’s composure, however, _was_ faltering, right before Axel’s eyes, and as he looked to the smile, the pleased, almost cute, expression, he felt a wave of protectiveness.

“Ok, this is funny and all, but I should get him home,” Axel placed both his hands on his companion's shoulders. “Let’s meet up for brunch tomorrow and we can all laugh about how hungover Isa is. You did great tonight Dem, really great.”

The pair watched the two older men go with a shared amusement. Demyx turned to Ienzo, met his gaze with cheerfulness, and they shared a moment of fondness.

“Why does it feel like we just got married?”

Ienzo leaned forward, and Demyx met him halfway, a gentle kiss and a whisper.

“If be it, I do.”

* * *

Isa and Axel walked home with the moonlighting their paths as the street lights flickered. This side of Radiant Garden died around eight and Isa’s apartment was only a block or two away. As they left the venue, Isa drew inward, his thoughts focused on steading his steps. He stumbled over small things: the part where the sidewalk rose unsuspectingly, a small pebble, a crack. _ Triple shit._ How embarrassing. How rude.

He hadn’t expected to feel the warmth of Axel’s hand cupping his palm, a reassuring hold on him. There was always a warmth, a pressing heat from Axel, both in personality and physicality, and it gripped Isa as though a lifeline. With Axel guiding him down the quiet street, he felt another wave of embarrassment and closed his eyes. He tightened his hold on the red-head, expected Axel's taunting, but it never came. The years spent away from one another had birthed something in Axel. Maturity? How surprising, how _pleasing_. Isa squeezed Axel's hand once, felt his heart fluster as the movement was returned, and went back to focusing on his footing. They held hands throughout their walk, as they climbed the staircase to Isa’s apartment, even as Isa fumbled to pull his keys from his pocket.

Axel whistled as he led the inebriated man inside. Isa’s place was unmistakeably Isa-refined, not a speck of dust in sight and everything neatly folded and placed. Axel was glad, happy to see the ever-reliable cleanliness, knowing that if things were bad in Isa's life, his home would reflect it. At most, the too-clean apartment seemed lonely. There were barely any pictures on the walls that weren't art-based, and like the moon in many of the portraits, Isa seemed to stand alone. Axel led his companion to the bedroom, found it in the same condition as the rest of the apartment: a neatly made bed, an even neater closet. He sat the drunken man down gently, beckoning for him to lay back and relax. Isa followed his direction, the hue of drunkness still faintly red on his face, and Axel turned away, planning his to-do list for the rest of the night.

_First, he’d get Isa some water, sober him up, and then he’d get him to eat something, something starchy…_

He didn’t expect the back of his shirt to be grabbed, didn't expect the strength that pulled him back to the bed. He crashed down, wide-eyed, scrambling up as he looked to Isa. Despite the flash of shock, Axel's mind lingered momentarily, _this is a really soft bed_, but then he took in the drunken stare. There was a stilled silence as they looked to one another, years-long questions murmuring, long-dead feelings threatening to re-emerge.

“Sleep with me.”

Axel shot up, leaning away as though poisoned. _What in the Hell_.

“Hell no, you’re drunk.”

Isa blinked, and then laughed. It was the loudest he’d been in years; a strong, clean sound that filled the emptiness of his apartment, occupying the vacancy with its chiming.

“In my bed. Sleep in...my bed. Back in college, we’d spend all night...studying....would fall asleep together.”

Axel paused. It'd been years, lifetimes ago, when it’d just been friendship, laughter, and naivety. Before the nights when an uncertain kiss was given, before the mornings when another was exchanged. There'd been days of simple friendship, days spent pressed together, the airs of romance not yet considered...Before new levels of intimacy were added to their relationship, there'd always been the closeness, and Axel, looking to Isa, realized he'd missed it.

He leaned forward and looked into those familiar teal eyes, eyes he’d once drowned in, would have died within if that’d been in the cards.

“Ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you do drink, drink responsibly!


	7. The Return to the Islands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang Sora, he wasn't ready man, chill out.

He’d come on too strong, that he was sure of now.

_You’re my sanctuary, Sora..._Oh for fuck’s sake… _Not to make this too formal but, I don’t want to be with anyone but you_…

Riku, strewn across the couch and hair an unruly mess, cringed against the aching of his heart. _What an idiot. A classic fool. A complete and utter buffoon._ How had something so good decayed and tethered off so quickly?

Sora, no, _Vanitas _had sworn it wasn’t related to Xehanort, had insisted when Riku had reached for his hands, wanting nothing more than to cup them within his own, that it was ultimately his decision and his alone. _Xehanort_ had merely prodded, and _Sora_ had taken off running.

“I’m just growing up and realizing that everything in the past…it was all so petty,” Sora said with such passion that Riku could barely get a word in. “I’ve struggled so much and because of what? Pride? I’m not proud of where or what I am. I want to be more than a college-dropout that mooches off the kindness of others.”

_But why the name change? And why is this all so sudden?_

Somewhere, somehow, the pleading had turned to growls, and the growls into yells. The pink of Sora’s cheeks now told of pink-stroked anger, the irritation on his tongue, the bile in his voice, evidence that he’d been possessed by a spirit of rage. It seemed like an act, Riku could have sworn it was fake, if not for the exhaustion, the fury, he saw reflected in the eyes before him.

Sora…no, that hadn’t been Sora.

The rage in _Vanitas_’ eyes, in his movements, as he stood from the kitchen and gathered his belongings, quieted the growls in Riku’s throat. He watched, idly, as Vanitas went to the front door, turned with one last glance, a glimmer of Sora in the apprehension, and said: “Good luck with your future Riku, I really mean that,” he’d paused, and there came the clatter of the spare key against the counter. “Our priorities are just too different, even if I wasn’t going to help with the business, I don’t think we would have worked out.”

“That’s a cop-out and you know it!” the yelling returned in-full blaze, Riku’s throat straining against the volume of his voice.

Vanitas passed, taken aback by the renewed energy, and his hand left the door. “You were legitimately about to abandon Ienzo so we could run away and have some fairytale life together. Abandon your _friend_ and _colleague_ of years for a guy you’ve known for a few months and aren’t even dating.”

Riku stiffened.

“You can’t commit to shit either. You took too long to ask me out, you were late to my gallery showing, you-you…” his voice trailed off.

“You hate Destiny Islands,” the words were clogged with emotion. “The one place I feel most at home you _despise_. If we did run away and moved there, don’t you think I’d feel bad knowing that every day you look at your life and feel trapped? We’re just not compatible Riku, you shouldn’t have run after me with that can of Paopu Fruit, I didn't ask for it and you didn't even say "goodbye" or "you're welcome", you just left."

With that, the last bit petty but the rest hurting all the same, Vanitas left, not a whisper of where he was going or how he was going to get there, and Riku was left in a stunned, rigid silence, his hand shaking into a fist against the counter, his thoughts going a mile a minute with the same, stunned question.

That’d been two days ago, and the couch had become Riku’s sulking grounds. Sora didn’t respond to his texts, probably wasn’t even _getting_ them, and with each passing second the question intensified. _Why didn’t you go after him? Why didn’t you go after him? Whydidn’tyougoafterhim?_

There came a knock just as the sun was setting and Riku rose, knees cracking and popping as he went to the peephole. There was apprehension in his slow, peeking movements, reminiscent of a curious, frightened cat. _Sora?_

The flash of red told him he was wrong.

“Hi,” The apathy dripped from his words as he opened the door and looked to Axel. “He’s gone.”

“Gone?” There was concern in Axel’s eyes, a glance that Riku couldn’t place if it was meant for him or for Sora.

“Yea, he left already,” Riku leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, expression distant. “And he’s not going to be back.”

He felt something lock inside of himself at the words, an idea, or emotion, solidifying itself.

_He’s not going to be back. _

**2 Years Later**

Ienzo only invited the Yami family to the wedding out of formality. The workplace gossip would be far too annoying to listen to, “_can you believe he didn’t even invite the boss_?!”, and with their project nearing its end, he didn’t have time for any of the pettiness. So, with an exasperated sigh, Ienzo told Demyx to send out the invitation.

Terra had been the one to respond, the RSVP scrawled with his blocky handwriting. Three checkmarks for each of the family members and their designated plus ones. Terra and Aqua. Xehanort and longtime friend, Braig. And Vanitas with his date, Larxene.

There was an overwhelming sense of....danger as Riku glanced to the table. He rarely caught Vanitas' eye, the young man was too busy whispering in Larxene's ear or laughing. But Braig...he caught Braig's eye often, and every time it felt as though Riku'd been marked, singled out...

It was just _perfect_.

Ienzo tried not to focus on the Yami table as he sat with Demyx. Ienzo _tried_ to only look at his groom, smiling as his mulleted hubby devoured their wedding cake…but still, he caught glimpses of Riku’s narrowed eyes as _he _seemed to _only _focus on the Yami table, and that was distracting enough. It wasn’t a glare, but it wasn’t a simple lingering glance either. There was something confused, almost haunting, in his gaze.

It _was _confusing in Riku’s defense. The way Sora seemed to have easily molded, in only two years, into some other alternative version of himself. His hand was wrapped tightly around his date’s waist, her eyes and smug expression grating as they both exuded waves of arrogance. Vanitas wore an all-black suit, his hair matching and stark against his paled skin, and those blue eyes were contacted bright yellow, a fad that was all the rage in Daybreak Town. When had Sora cared about fashion? _That’s right, _Riku scowled. _Vanitas does._

Axel cleared his throat every time Riku’s eyes flashed over to the Yami table, and Kairi, as though on cue, would launch into _another_ exciting story about something in her life. She’d tug at Riku’s arm, repeating: “Are you listening Riku, this is _really_ fun I promise,” and he’d begrudgingly turn to her. Namine aided as an honorary member of the Riku Distraction Committee, engaging him in quiet, gentle conversation whenever there was a lull. Her presence was calming; even as Vanitas’ maniacal laughter seemed to fill every crevice in the room, if Namine was quietly talking to Riku, her voice softened the blow.

“We should go out for drinks and karaoke after this,” Isa said as Vexen, _why did Ienzo invite Vexen_, began his long speech, explaining how the love between the newly married couple was stronger than any covalent bond.

_Oh God please_, Riku looked to Isa, nodding quickly. _Get me away from these people._

* * *

Three hours later, Isa regretted his suggestion. He looked to a drunken Axel, his long limbs haphazardly strewn across the car’s back seat, his head in Kairi’s lap as she comforted her poor, inebriated brother. Drinking contests never ended well for someone as competitive as Axel, and as always, he was out of it.

Namine and Riku stayed behind, mellowing into the background of the bar. She watched as Riku knocked back his eighth shot, already preparing herself for the “_Fuck, I’m so hungover, kill me please_” texts. She sipped at her water slowly, already resigning herself to the reality that she’d have to drag the pained Riku from bed the next morning so they could catch their 10 AM flight. It was going to _suck._

“Well, well, well,” came a low, familiar drawling, and Namine resisted the urge to groan. “Look at my two exes, just having the time of their lives.”

Riku’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing, anger already hot on his tongue. Namine placed a hand over his clenched fist as she turned to Vanitas, her gaze level. The man swayed as though caught in a breeze and Larxene leaned against him heavily, her eyes drooping. _Of all the bars, why this one? And why did they have to be drunk?_

“Hello Vanitas. Riku and I were just leaving actually, we have an early flight tomorrow and it’s already pretty late.”

Vanitas rested his fluttering gaze on Riku, and his cocky expression faltered.

“You’re growing your hair out,” he continued, and Namine blinked, taken aback. Vanitas’ stepped forward, seemingly unaware that Namine had even spoken as he looked to the long silver tresses of hair, illuminated red and green in the neon light. “It looks ok. I prefer it short.”

“I don’t care about your preference.” Riku went to stand, already teetering to the side, and Namine pressed her hand to his shoulder; he stilled under her touch. It was easier to separate Vanitas from Sora, easier than Riku had previously thought it would be. Though Sora and Vanitas shared the same face, the man Riku had known was long gone, buried under mounds of something dark, much like his grandfather.

“I think it looks good long,” Larxene muttered, her gaze trailing over Riku and Namine equally. “Real edgy.”

Vanitas’ gave another smirk and turned away, calling to the bartender for another drink, seemingly already bored with the people from his previous life. Larxene added her order, her attention pulled away for the moment, and Namine took the opening as a godsend.

She orchestrated their escape, ushering Riku to the back of the bar, near the bathrooms and water fountain. She instructed for him to drink, sobering him up for the hour-long drive home, and he lazily obliged. He sipped before going rigid, and she helplessly watched as he rushed for the bathroom. _Did she have towels and a plastic bag in her trunk? _With a cautious glance to the bathroom door, Namine gave a low: “I’ll be right back ok? Just stay in there” before she left.

Hopefully, Riku would be done throwing up by the time she got back.

Riku didn’t vomit though, the feeling passing like waves on the ocean. He stood by the sink, let the cool porcelain chill his palms as he panted. _Today sucks_. What were the odds? Maybe he shouldn’t have come for the wedding…Ienzo should have told him Vexen and So—Vanitas were going to be there…

The door opened, and Riku sighed, wondering if his companion was so bold as to come into the men’s restroom. She was a tough young woman, he wouldn’t put it past her. He turned with a smile, looking to the door, ready to tease Namine for her concern.

Instead, he took in a smirk and amber-eyes.

“Where ya guys going tomorrow?” Vanitas asked, words slurring. Riku gripped the sink.

“Why?”

“Don’t you think it’s…. weird,” Vanitas cocked his head to the side and leaned against the bathroom door, pushing it closed. “Ienzo and Demyx invited you guys along on their honeymoon, that’s _really_ fucking weird right? Don’t people usually just bone, like, the entire time? Is it an orgy? Are you guys planning an orgy?”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’ll be there too you know, Terra convinced granddad to allow us to use some of our vacation hours. Wasn’t that nice of him? A fucking saint, that guy is.”

Vanitas stepped forward, and Riku stiffened. _Get the fuck away from me_, is what he _wanted_ to say. _Back off_, is what he _should_ have said. But he looked into those yellow-eyes, saw the flickers of amber in the gaze, and felt entrapped, like a wolf hypnotized by the moon. The space between them closed, and Vanitas stepped towards Riku, so close that Riku could make out the small flecks of freckles under his eyes. _Does he want to fight?_ If Sora was a lover when drunk, the kind of person who liked to cuddle up to others, it would make sense for his alter ego to be one to cuddle with his fists. He’d been raring for a fight all night, Riku had felt it. _Fucking really?_

But no. That wasn’t it. Vanitas, placidly, tugged at the silver-haired man’s suit jacket, something playful, almost innocent, in the movement.

Riku’s fists still balled and his mind raced._ Our priorities are just too different, even if I wasn’t going to help with the business, I don’t think we would have worked out_.

“_We _were supposed to go to Destiny Islands you know,” Vanitas’ expression softened, and he gave one final tug on Riku’s suit jacket, a small, half-hearted smile on his face. “It would have been fun.”

And that’s how Riku, after two years, found himself kissing Sora…Vanitas?..._Soranitas_? in a bathroom in some downtown bar. There was anger behind each kiss, each swirl of the tongue a bitten back swear, and the tange of Paopu Colada was sweet on Soranitas’ lips. _Of course he’d go for something sweet_, Riku couldn’t push the thought down. _Sora always liked sweet._

Vanitas’ fingers were unbuttoning Riku’s dress shirt as Riku pressed him against the wall, and there came flashes of the night with each kiss. The arrogant laughter that had once been a cheerful sound. The black suit jacket when Sora had always said he preferred blue. Those damned yellow eyes hiding a gaze Riku so longed to see...

Riku easily slid the jacket from Vanitas’ body, and next came the belt. If he closed his eyes and savored the other man’s lips, he could pretend, just for the moment, that they were back in his condo in Radiant Garden, watching movies and making out on the couch, in the kitchen, wherever. Riku hoisted Vanitas’ upwards, wasn’t surprised when the other man straddled him. Maybe they should have locked the door? There came a gasp, a familiar, distant sound of the mumbling of Riku’s name, and Riku bit the other man’s lip before drawing him in for a long kiss. He would get Sora back, somehow. The promise was two years old now, _I won’t give him up, _and of course, it’d take baby steps. He was already working on getting his ex-lover out of this black uniform, and the kisses could stop the arrogant laughter. Plus, at the end of it all, all Riku really wanted was to hear that long-overdue moan.

From the door came three hard raps.

“Vani, we gotta _gooooo_.”

Riku could have gone his entire life without hearing Larxene speak. He felt, just hearing those four words, ten years of his existence seemingly blow away in the wind.

The pause was enough to make the two drunk men pull away from one another, enough for the realization, the dread, to set in. Riku wouldn’t look at Vanitas as the other man retrieved his discarded black jacket from the ground, his smirk long gone. Riku didn’t want to check and see if his face was that pale shade of pink that he'd always liked. And worst of all, he couldn’t look into those eyes, because they’d only solidify that Sora was really, truly, gone.

“I hate…” What did he hate? Sora? Vanitas? Xehanort? Himself? “_this_.”

There was a chuckle, and a quiet reply as the sounds of the bar reverberated through the open door.

“Yea, I bet you do.”

  
* * *

“Let me show you where all the _cool kids_ hung out,” Kairi grinned as she and Riku climbed into the small wooden boat. They’d been back in Destiny Islands for a day and already Riku was itching to leave. Namine had taken to the island easily, sketching from the balcony of her hotel room, the ocean breeze tousling her hair, but Riku found himself assaulted with all-too-familiar sights and sounds, some he wanted nothing more than to check back into memory. And, to make matters worse, Grandpa Sephiroth had even tried to make him help out around the hotel, all but ordering him to stand in as concierge.

Luckily, Kairi came to Riku's aid, whisking him away with promises that she’d return the young man in one piece. Sephiroth had actually agreed, had _smiled_, and Riku sighed. Kairi was a local, of course she was familiar with the man; when Sephiroth looked to her, he saw a flash of the young, curious daughter of the mayor…_ah, they grow up so fast_.

Riku and Kairi rowed together, besting the small, calm waves with idle chatter. The water was clear, clearer than Riku remembered it ever being, and the sky, an ever-expansive yawning of blue, was more tolerable the more they got away from the main island.

“I don’t remember it being this beautiful.” He tasted the salt in the air as he spoke.

Kairi stopped rowing and stretched with a loud sigh. “These islands have a way of feeling like a prison and a paradise. Sometimes they’re beautiful, other times they’re just, ugh.” They sat for a moment, relaxing as the boat bobbed on the water, both loving and hating where they were, both lost in memories they hadn’t dwelled on in years. 

When they resumed rowing, they made it to the small island in no time, the small bead in the sky growing into the full-blown childhood clubhouse Riku remembered.

“Oh, someone else is here.” Kairi motioned to the lone boat that bobbed on the dock.

_Don’tletitbeTidusDon’tletitbeTidus_. Riku could still hear the laughter, even after the years they’d been apart. _AhahaHA_.

Kairi scanned the beach and Riku realized maybe he should have been praying for it to be Tidus, because there, sitting in the sand was...Ventus? And...oh...Vanitas.

They still had time to row away, they hadn’t even fully docked yet.

“Kairi let’s g—”

“Oh, hey guys!” _Damnit_ _Ven_. He waved, a smile growing across his face, and Vanitas turned to look at the two newcomers.

The surprise didn’t bring anger as Riku’d expected it would. He looked to the two young men before him and resisted the urge to rush forward, footsteps kicking up sand in his wake. As he looked to Vanitas, he was greeted with a gaze that sent a pang through his heart. A glance of wet, sharp blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H47ow4_Cmk0


	8. Interlude: Between Two Worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Run Riku, RUN!

Riku paused, the sound of the surf exceedingly loud, the sight before him burrowing, like a lightning rod, into his heart.

It’d been impulse, maybe even instinct, that had moved him forward, moved him to comfort the one who was crying, barely holding it together, in a place that should have brought him nothing but joy.

“Hey you two…” Kairi stood by Riku’s side and looked to Ven and Vanitas with a forced smile. She gave a small wave, the movement stiff but pleasant all the same.

Vanitas stood, dusting the sand from his pants haphazardly, not looking to the two newcomers and instead, starting forward with a scowl.

“Where ya going Vani?”

“Leaving.”

“L-leaving? No, wait, come on, come back, let’s finish talking.”

“_Make me_!”

The venom in his voice was thick, dripping from each word like tar, but there it was, evident in the flashing pink hue across Vanitas’ cheeks._ Embarrassment_. In a sudden childish display of contempt, Vanitas shoved past Riku, his dewey blue eyes on the sand, a slight uncertainty in his movements as he jogged away.

“V-Vanitas, hey!” Ventus took off after the bristling man, flashing a bashful, apologetic grin as he passed the newcomers.

Riku and Kairi watched the pair pass the rowboat, watched them settle on the other side of the island, sitting on the large wooden structure with crossed arms and hushed, angry words. The sound of the waves filled the silence, filled the space where choked-back words threatened to rise.

“Come on Riku,” Kairi finally spoke, her voice high with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. “I still have to show you where the cool kids hung out, right?”

The smile that crossed Riku’s face was one of gratitude, and he gave a small, thankful nod. 

They sat on the trunk of the Paopu tree, their words suspended somewhere between small talk and deep conversation. The subject would come up, and eyes would glance to Ven and Vanitas as they sat across the way. Moments of “_should we…_” or “_he seems different, doesn’t he_” were attempted, abandoned, in a moment’s time, and Riku and Kairi returned their gazes to the sea.

It was after another attempt to speak, Kairi’s sixth time at prodding, that the young woman gave an exasperated groan. It echoed through the island, off the wooden structures and over the waves, and Riku blinked, turned to her with a surprised, but understanding, glance.

“It’s weird, we both lived here as kids and never ran into one another,” _ah a new conversation topic, thank you Kairi_. “These aren’t large islands.”

“You were a local, I was a summer transplant.”

“But you know Tidus.”

_And I wish I didn’t_. “His dad _is_ a traveling blitzball champ, they have a permanent residence in one of the hotel’s penthouses, it was impossible _not_ to know him,” Riku paused, a secret he’d held, a realization that had never come to fruition, sitting on the tip of his tongue, finally ready to be spoken.

“I saw you once,” the ocean air swayed the leaves of the Paopu Tree. “During the Atlantica Swimming Contest.”

A flash of a memory, a young red-headed girl, her hair plastered to her wet face, came to mind. She was an unexpected winner, _who’d known the mayor’s daughter was such a good swimmer_, and she was beaming with pride as she held her medal.

“Oh,” the hold of memories, soft and alluring, were evident in Kairi’s smile. “That was so long ago. Sora was so happy, he was cheering louder than I was.”

Riku paused, thinking back, the memory fuzzy with time. There _had_ been a boy at the periphery of the scene…smiling just as wide as Kairi, if not more. He’d been covered in band-aids, his grubby childish hands clasped in a woman’s…He’d been bellowing Kairi’s name, dancing from foot to foot.

_So loud_. That’s what Riku had said, his glare sharp. And the boy…Sora?...he’d paused, his expression flitting between confusion and a flash of hurt.

But then he’d stuck out his tongue, akin to a child’s middle finger, and just as quickly as he’d gone quiet, he returned to his joy-drunk state, his screechings of “Kairi!” louder, happier, more deliberate.

“We shared our first paopu that day,” Kairi looked to the horizon, to the clouds that skittered the waterline, and gave a heavy sigh.

“Were you two…”

“Best friends,” Kairi looked to the small fire of jealousy beside her and couldn’t help but smile. “Soulmates don’t have to be romantic…but he…he’s mine. We’re best friends, even now. I won’t let him go that easy.”

The words spurned something within her, and she turned to the tree, placing her feet on the trunk and climbing with years of practice in her movements. Riku watched, amused and a bit impressed, as she twisted one of the golden star-shaped fruits free from its stem and slid down the trunk.

Fresh paopu tasted better than Riku remembered, but the bittersweet tang of memories made it hard to fully appreciate.

“Ventus, stop!”

There came the sound of splashing, of laughter, and Kairi and Riku looked to the surf. The others had returned to their previous spot, and Ventus, with a laugh, dashed water in Vanitas’ direction. Vanitas stalked away from the laughing blond, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl darkening his features.

“_Make me_!” Ven mocked, and Vanitas paused.

And laughed, laughed clearly and loudly, the sound carrying over the sound of the waves.

The island seemed to breathe as though satisfied by the sound, the wind murmuring through the leaves about how it’d so missed the laughter of one of its favorite island boys.

Another splash of water and another mocking line, and the mismatched pair were soon playing along the beach with almost childlike giddiness, the scowl momentarily gone from Vanita’s face, an airiness that spoke of accomplishment in Ventus' yells.

Kairi watched the scene, smiling as she bit into the star-shaped fruit, and felt a bit of resolve at the way her best friend seemed to hold his head a bit higher. And Riku, with his gaze turned to the sea, couldn’t bring himself to look.

* * *

Riku returned to the hotel a bit tanner and more lighthearted. He plopped onto his bed and fell asleep quickly, his eyes heavy with the warmth of the sun. He sunk into the mattress, the plush, feather-down comforter like a cloud, and his thoughts became mush.

When his eyes opened the room was dark save for the stray streak of thin golden light from the parted curtains. A knock sounded through the room, a single _rap_, and Riku closed his eyes.

_He’d get to it later._

But the **BANG** said otherwise. The force against the door was so abrupt, so loud, that the wood seemed to creak under the assault. Riku jumped, his eyes wide and startled, and he scrambled from the bed, hand groping for the doorknob.

“What?!”

He was met by a yellow-eyed gaze, and he deflated, felt the surprise fizzle away. He looked to the door, to the boot-shaped imprint, and when he looked back to Vanitas, he found his glare reflected back at him.

“You kicked my door?”

Vanitas’ gaze fell and for once, he seemed almost uncomfortable. His eyes bolted in every which direction, avoiding Riku’s eye, and when he spoke, his words shook; a smooth, nervous vibrato.

“My grandfather hasn’t told you about the Symposium yet, has he?”

"What?"

"Just answer the question," there came a slow shake of the head, and Vanitas nodded. “Of course not. And I’m sure Ienzo hasn’t told you either, on account of the boning and all.”

Riku grimaced, the door momentarily forgotten, and Vanitas waved him off. “I’m trying to give you a heads-up.”

“A heads-up?”

“We’ll be working together,” the words sent a jolt through Riku. “The old man thinks I’m ready…” he trailed off, a sudden uncharacteristic uncertainty blanketing his words.

“Ready? For what?” Riku’s response came growled and impatient, and Vanitas began to bristle at the tone.

“Don't come at me, it was Terra's idea that I present your research.”

“Excuse me!?”

“I don’t give a single fuck about your Dark Matter bullshit,” Vanitas stilled himself, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he spoke slowly, each word deliberate and carefully stated. “Listen, it’s going to be clear that it’s _your_ research, don’t get all: “_Oh he’s stealing it_,” I’m not, if it were up to me I’d burn your fucking research. I’m supposed to be…showcasing the company’s trust in your findings, really easy, generic stuff.”

Riku was silent, his thoughts coming quickly and angrily. What Vanitas was saying wasn’t outlandish, it was the norm for some CEOs present to the company’s findings instead of individual employees…but....why hadn’t _he_ been told? _Ienzo_ had known apparently…

“When we get back to Radiant Garden we’ll see a lot of each other,” Vanitas was saying. “I just need to familiarize myself with your research, I’ll construct the presentation, my assistant will handle inviting the press-”

“Fine,” Riku didn’t care if he cut the bristly young man off, wanted nothing more for him to go away so he could be alone with his thoughts. “I’ll deliver the reports and the conclusions by eight Monday morning.”

“I can’t wait,” Vanitas turned away, the snark returning to his movements, and Riku cleared his throat. Vanitas paused in his saunter but didn't turn to look back.

“How long has Ienzo known?”

Only then did Vanitas turn, and when he looked to Riku, there was something like pity in his half-hearted: “a while, I guess?”

_Why hadn’t Ienzo told him? They were partners after all._

“I’m…I’m sure he was going to tell you,” the delay, the softness in his voice, was familiar and pain laden.

“Yea,” but was that true? Ienzo _had_ seemed distant lately, he’d assumed it was because of the wedding but…the man was becoming something of a mystery. Riku hadn’t even know Ienzo and Vexen were still in touch…hadn’t known they still talked. What else was he hiding?

“Thanks…Vanitas.”

Riku didn’t miss the flinch the name inflicted, didn’t miss the way the beginning of Vanitas' words, sad and uncomfortable, sounded as he went to respond.

“Riku…” Vanitas’ Gummi phone, tucked into his pocket, vibrated, and whatever he was going to say never came.

“Braig, _stop_ calling me I’m on vacation,” he turned away, his usual cadence returning, the general smugness right back where it belonged. “Ventus invited me to hang out with him, I’m not your slave you know…”

And, walking down the hallway, any built camaraderie between them dissipated.

* * *

The next morning, as the breakfast buffet rounded to a close, Riku spotted Ventus across the dining hall.

The young man had seemingly pilled all the pancakes he could onto a single plate, so much so that he had a second plate he’d transfer them to for eating. He was on cloud nine, chewing away and smiling, lost in the euphoria of breakfast pleasures.

Riku went to him, a cup of coffee and a piece of toast in hand, and they ate in harmony.

“Roxas didn’t come?”

Ventus shook his head and inhaled another pancake. “He’s working on a case,” another chomp, and with a mouthful of food, he attempted to speak. “Ee’s eally wusy bight mow.”

“Ah,” it made sense now. “Vanitas took his spot then.”

Ven nodded and sipped at his Paopu juice. “Yea, it all worked out. I know he really wanted to come back here.”

Riku nodded and Ven put his fork down, looked to him with eyes that were more mature, more serious, than Riku had ever expected them to be.

“He showed me around town, all his favorite places. We visited his mom’s grave,” he continued to stare. “Talked about you some.”

“Oh?”

“Yea,” Ven stabbed a bit of pancake with his fork. “He wasn’t crying about his mom. You should know that.”

“Oh.”

The silence between them was built upon uncertainty, and Riku rose from the table, his coffee half-drunk, his toast half-eaten.

“Working together with him might not be so bad Riku,” Ven’s smile said good luck. “Vanitas is really good at painting a mask of who he thinks he needs to be.”

“_Oh_.”

Who knew “oh” could carry so many meanings, so many tones, each conveying an understanding in Riku he’d so desperately wanted.

Who knew that the dread he’d felt about working alongside Vanitas in Radiant Garden would suddenly turn to anticipation?

* * *

The needing pain in Vanitas’ chest started up again. A familiar pang, a familiar gasping groan, and he burrowed into the bed of his hotel room, the outside caw of a seagull like a blaring alarm.

The mirror in the bathroom was shattered, the phone screen probably too. Both were abandoned, broken and useless, and Vanitas wanted nothing more than to join them.

_Had he forgotten how to be good? Why was aggression his new baseline?_

He whimpered into his pillow, burrowed deeper as he thought of how Riku had looked to him, all love-lost from the man’s expression.

_Was this who he was now?_

_How could he tell Naminé that her sacrifice, her strength in turning her father in, had resulted in something much worse and more dangerous? That Xehanort would always find a way to get his prestige, whether it be through legal means or...._

His ringtone started up from the bathroom, _not broken after all_, echoing off the walls like an ethereal, ghostly wailing, and Vanitas stilled.

He let it ring. And ring. And ring until it rang no more.

And only then did he cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanitas laying in his hotel room like: "Alexa play Bring Me To Life by Evanescence"


	9. Hello Again, Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, do I change the rating to M?  
Maybe I should have changed it to M when Isa got drunk.  
I'm new to this, be gentle.

For a month the trio settled into a routine. Ienzo and Riku would set up the conference room in silence, gathering the necessary documents for the day. There were no words lost between them, at most a stray comment, “_It’s cold in here again, isn’t it_”, and then Vanitas, at around 9, would step for Braig’s car with an ever-present scowl. By 9:30, after he’d downed half of the pot of coffee in the break room, he’d seat himself by Ienzo and would begin to read, and they’d worked until he was called to leave. Every day, at exactly 5, Braig would call from where he sat outside the office, perpetually parked in the shade at the end of the street, waiting. The cycle would repeat itself, a monotonous, uncomfortable routine, and for Riku, the disdain for the workweek grew.

Still, at least Vanitas was surprisingly serious. He read over the reports, the legs of his chair teetering for balance and a pair of headphones permanently stuck into his ears, with a concentrated gaze, his usual boisterous personality subdued into muttered, “_oh….I see…”_s as he flipped through the years of reports.

Riku tried to catch himself, tried to keep his eyes glued to his laptop screen, but it was somehow, someway, alluring: the sudden show of devotion in Vanitas’ attention.

As the days tirelessly marched into weeks, Riku fought to push the thoughts down, fought to still his beating heart…but there _was_ something nice about the honeyed amber of Vanitas’ contacts. The appeal, as time went on, was hard to dismiss, and though nothing could beat the oceaned gaze that hid beneath, Riku couldn’t help but sneak an appreciative glimpse ever-so-often.

When Vanitas was calm like this, it was easy to fall back into the remnants of..._no_.

Riku desperately fought against the idea. Vanitas was just attentive to the presentation because it was his _job_, that didn’t mean anything. Thoughts of: _I should be thankful_ (and not what he was almost ashamed to consider) seemed neverending. _Thankful that the ass was being serious about the research_.

It was Riku's research after-all, what he'd poured his life into for the past couple of years....

But....still...there was something cute about him. When Vanitas had been silent for too long, would stare at a page for what seemed like hours, he’d lean towards Ienzo, his words whispered, something like innocence in the way he asked questions. Ienzo, meanwhile, was not so kind, his answers loud and phrased _just so_ that Riku, from across the table, knew exactly what had been asked. Each time Riku felt a dichotomy of emotions. _Amusement_, because bashfulness didn't fit Vanitas. And..._worry_, that Ienzo wouldn't just include him in the discussion.

It was a month into this routine when Ienzo finally whispered a response back to Vanitas, and the sudden murmuring, where there had once been audible words, was alarming.

“What?”

Both Ienzo and Vanitas jumped, and Riku leaned back in his chair, looking to where they sat scrunched together. Vanitas looked back to the papers sharply, and Ienzo cleared his throat.

“He’s asking for clarification on the Heartless Conclusion.”

“Oh…And what did you tell him?”

They stared at one another, Riku’s gaze unrelenting, Ienzo’s unreadable, blank.

He never did end up telling Riku about the presentation, a fact that made it hard for Riku to look to the man, to try and start a conversation. Vanitas had arrived at their conference room, begun reading the reports, and Ienzo had gone about it as though it’d been discussed, as though everything was finished and stated.

The rift between them had become significant, growing little by little each day until it seemed they only acknowledged one another through Vanitas, and that itself was rare.

“I told him the truth Riku, that though it is inconcludable it does have a link to the Nobody Theorem.”

The response, smooth and level, was delivered with an unspoken daring. Riku turned back to his computer, resisted the urge to respond: _like us_? and neither elaborated.

***

It was a Friday just like all those years ago, one where Ienzo went home early and Isa, with a sympathetic glance, asked Riku to stay late.

This time, however, Riku was not alone. Unlike that night, he would have done anything to get away from the man across the room. There were no phone numbers exchanged, no shy, blushing cheeks. At most, in the silence of the conference room, there was anger.

The sound of Vanitas’ phone, which seemed to never stop ringing, filled the quiet. Vanitas, his headphones blaring, never seemed to notice, but Riku found himself frequently tapping the young heir’s shoulder. It garnered an exasperated grunt each time, and Riku responded by pointing to the phone. Vanitas, would gaze at the screen, never answering it, allowing it to chirp until it finally went still, and Riku, with a sigh, would return to his work.

It was a routine that was akin to pulling teeth, and by the fourth time, he'd had enough. When the phone began to sing, to clatter against the table, he reached over and cradled it in hand. Vanitas stirred, his expression like an awoken beast, close to snarling as he prepared a response. Riku looked the phone over and flicked it into silent mode.

_Of course, the little rich boy got the newest model of Gummi phone. How materialistic_.

“You got a new phone Vanitas?” Riku returned the phone with a disinterested pass.

Vanitas stiffened.

“Yea,” the amber eyes caught Riku, held him in their depths. “Why are you asking?”

“Just making conversation,” Riku turned back to his laptop, sweat beginning to prickle along his neck, and he shivered, whether from the cold of the room or unease, he didn’t know.

“Well….Ok.” if Vanitas had wanted to say more, to fight, it’d all but left him. 

They went back to their accustomed solitude, Riku returning to organizing the reports, a nervous quietness growing with each loud _tick_ of the clock.

Vanitas’ phone began to vibrate against the table, and Riku groaned. “_Really_?”

“I’m _sorry_, ok?” Vanitas spun towards him with narrowed eyes. “You can’t turn it off, they programmed it that way.” His tone, harsh and near yelling, yearned to fight, but his eyes, wide and blinking rapidly, asked for something more. He grabbed the phone, held it between his hands as it shook, and glared at Riku as though he’d been the one who’d been calling.

“They?”

“Shut up.” He spat, the tears beginning to bud in his eyes as he brought the phone closer to his heart.

Riku turned away, began typing again and murmured: “I’m…I won’t bring it up again.” It'd been a painful sight, he'd never expected Vanitas could get anywhere near tears. He was so _cocky_, so _arrogant_, he'd probably fight his tears before considering giving into it...but the sniffling behind Riku begged to differ.

“Sometimes I feel like the only time I’m _me_ is when I’m crying.” The words, self-soothing and spoken under breath, weren’t meant for Riku, but he paused, his fingers stilling on the keyboard.

He knew how that felt. The vulnerability like kinship he hadn’t known they shared. Did he not feel the same? Was his long hair less of a style choice and more of a promise he was beginning to realize would never be satisfied? Had it not been an oath, two years in the making, that he wouldn’t trim it until he found a way out of whatever darkness he’d found himself in? An emptiness that’d start when…

“I know how that feels,” And Riku meant it, as he turned back to gaze at Vanitas. They looked to one another, patrons of something dark and oppressive, and Riku continued. “Like the darkness is the only place you seem to belong?”

_How were they still so close, despite being different now?_

“Darkness,” there came a bitter chuckle, and the wiping of a tear. “What do you know about darkness?”

“When your grandfather took over the company…. that was actually…really rough for me….” it felt like a confession, and Riku felt his cheeks flush, felt his heart begin to beat against his chest.

_He was the only one who could understand…._

“Yes Riku, we’re all aware that you hate working here,” Riku blinked, and Vanitas scoffed. “So why keep doing it? You don’t have a gun pressed against your head, at least not from my angle. _Quit_, nobody is stopping you.”

“I can’t do that to Ienzo, we’re a team.” _Were?_

Something pinched in Vanitas’ expression, and he sniffled again.

“Well, if I were you and I knew how to find the light again, I’d do it.” The statement, the perfect mixture of anger and vulnerability, made it hard to place which persona Riku was talking to. His heart continued to beat strongly, and his hands began to shake.

“Then again, I don’t know if I’m worthy of the light anymore.”

“Don’t say that S—” Riku bit his tongue and Vanitas looked to him, his expression not a glare but dark all the same. The tears began to bud again, and he drew a hand over his eyes.

  
“It’s true though, if you even knew the half of it,” He sighed, and drew in a shaky breath. “In Daybreak Town, I did some things, scoped smaller companies out for my grandfather…”

“Whatever you did, you don’t need to tell me,” Riku turned back to his laptop, resisting the urge to lean forward and wipe the tears he knew were beginning to fall again. _Things are different now, you can’t_. He clicked a document to print. “You’re an ass, but I know you’re a good person Vanitas. You’re just…finding your way.”

The printer began to hum, and Riku rose, searching for a stapler.

“Don’t call me that,” the reply soft and pained, was enough to still Riku’s movements, to stop him in his step and coax his gaze towards the seated man. _How he’d longed to hear that voice again._

Despite the black clothes and the sharp, dark hair, in that moment, in the sudden vulnerability and downcast gaze, there was Sora again, tired and broken, but there he sat. He looked up, tears damp on his cheeks, eyes pleading.

“_Please_?” His voice barely rose over the hum of the printer.

“Ok. I won’t say it anymore.”

And then came the smile.

Riku’s heart stilled.

“Don’t give up on me,” Sora looked to the page he’d been reading. “You’re one of the few lights I have left.”

Riku, frozen in his spot, fought against the ideas, the inclinations, that screamed for resolution. It was an internal battle, a dilemma, that he’d thought had long been chased from his mind.

_Things are different now_.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the still-sniffling man, and after several minutes, there came a slow glance in his direction. 

“If you’re not going to get those papers, I will. I need them, I’ve been rereading that last page for the past five minutes.” he rose from the chair, the legs thumping against the ground, and as he passed Riku, the thoughts finally won.

They guided Riku’s hand, caught Vanitas’s...Sora’s…arm, and held him captive by a years-long desire.

“What is it?” the amber gaze locked onto Riku, knowing already what was unfolding and wanting it all the same. It was apparent from the softness in Riku’s eyes, from the way he cupped the chin and pulled the one he’d missed in for a soft, deliberate kiss. As the kisses trailed down from his lips, to his jaw and his neck, they both knew that it didn’t matter if the person before Riku was Vanitas or Sora, knew that it didn’t matter if the gaze was yellowed or blue. All that mattered was that it was _him_, and that was enough.

Sora sat on the conference table, his arms wrapped across shoulders, his fingers lazily intertwining through Riku’s long hair. His tongue found its way into Riku’s mouth and with a panted breath he held him close, mumbling, low and sweet, repetitions of his name. For the first time in a month, the room felt hot.

_There’d been days entangled on the couch, the counter._

_Days spent on kitchen floors eating cake._

_Nights spent in bar bathrooms; unspoken thoughts turned to anger._

They leaned back, bodies warm against the cool surface of the table, kisses trailing from the neck to the collarbone, bodies arching forward, fitting together like a scattered memory longing to be realized, seen, for its truth.

Riku’s panted response, long-overdue, finally came.

“I won’t give up on you, Sora.”

And they crashed together again, knowing that whether fractured or whole, they couldn’t help but be hopelessly in love.

The long-awaited moan sounding just as sweet as Riku knew it would.

***

He kissed Sora’s forehead, an innocent peck in the fog of bliss, and he thought, eyes closed: _This might as well be our anniversary_…

“When you left…did you mean what you said?”

“I was trying to be helpful,” there was the slightest edge of Vanitas in tone, and Riku, for once, found that it didn’t grate against his nerves, found himself calm, and accepting, of the slight defensiveness. “I thought it’d help you move on quicker.”

“I don’t want to move on from you.”

“That’s just the paopu talking.”

“Shut up.”

Sora gave a low, breathy laugh and traced a star onto Riku’s collarbone with his finger. There were moments of labored silence as their breathing slowed, and Sora, with a short glance, spoke again.

“Riku, you should know…,”

“Is this about us?”

“In a…roundabout way,” they looked to one another, and Sora, his cheeks and ears pink, glanced away, looking back to Riku’s collarbone. “It’s mainly about the presentation.”

Reality, as it always did, came back with a force, and Riku felt the chill of the office air prickling against his skin.

“Don’t tell me then. Be with me in this moment.” _On the conference room table._ He winced. _God if HR found out about this_…

“Ok…” there was a reservation, mature and even, in Sora’s tone, and when he spoke again, a long-gone softness returned to his voice.

“Do you think it's wrong to find strength in the darkness?”

That’s all Riku’d been doing the past two years. It’d been autopilot that moved him, roused him in the morning to go to work. Was "yes" too simple of an explanation, too much of a confession to weakness? 

“I don’t know.”

They looked to one another, blinking slowly, sleepily. 

“I want to find the light again.” _It’s you._

“Mm...” _I’ve changed so much_.

Sora closed his eyes with a sigh, seemingly satisfied at being heard. Riku, too, followed his lead and relaxed into closed-eyed darkness. With a few muttered words of sweetness, they pretended they were somewhere else, in another time, where nothing had torn them apart in the first place.

***

“I should get those copies.”

Riku rose, began to redress himself, and Sora followed his lead. Everything began to melt back into the new normal, Riku stapled the pages and Sora, patiently, waited. The phone rang, and Riku prepared for it to be ignored but, no, this time, it was answered. He paused, heard, creeping into Sora’s voice, the resurfacing of Vanitas, and continued to staple as the conversation began.

“We’re almost done Braig,” a pause, and then, growled. “I’m _not_ lying, there was extra stuff to read tonight.” It was quick, almost too quick to even warrant the call, because just like that, it ended. Riku resisted the urge to throw the phone against the wall as he laid the papers on the table.

“I assumed Xehanort would be the one calling you all the time…”

There came a sigh.

“My grandpa needed a watchdog because I can’t be trusted yet apparently,” a hand pushed through hair and eyes closed as though pained. “Braig basically watched my every move while I was in Daybreak Town, I thought since I’m back in Radiant Garden he’d chill out but....”

He trailed off, readjusting the headphones.

“If it wasn’t for Larxene and Ventus I’d probably have gone insane. She really helped me make myself more…no-nonsense as she calls it…and Ven….he helped me remember who I am….” Vanitas let the words trail off again, nodding to himself before he began to read. Riku sat, staring at his laptop, anger growing in the pit of his stomach, increasing as the silence drew on.

The excuse that he needed to get something out of his car came quickly, and his footsteps, echoing through the office, sounded as though he were preparing for war.

_Xehanort had already won, the least he could allow was for a **breath** of freedom. _

Outside it was dark, the only thing on the streetlight road _that_ car. He went to it, knowing exactly where it would be, where it always was, never-moving, outside of the office building. Inside was Sora’s warden, and as Riku knocked on the window, he looked to his expression in the black tint, saw the anger in his eyes.

_Good_. He hoped he looked ready to murder.

No response. Riku knocked again, saw his eyes darken, and felt a burst of courage.

The driver, slowly, rolled the window down, and Riku blinked.

Blinked again and fought to respond, his words stolen and throat tight.

_This wasn’t what he’d expected, wasn’t who he wanted…_

“Roxas?”

“Go away Riku,” the blond, with his eyes darting between Riku and the empty road, gave a low, exasperated whisper. “I’m working.”

“Working?” Riku looked to the empty streets. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where things usually occurred. There wasn’t anyone out here to scope out. No place for a detective. 

“Yes.” Roxas’ eyes darted to the front of the building, to the black car that turned the corner. _That was Braig_. Somewhere upstairs Vanitas’ phone was ringing. “Go away, we can talk later.”

“I always assumed this was Braig’s car…”

Roxas paused, tearing his eyes away from the street.

“And what were you going to do if it had been Braig, Riku?”

It felt silly, suddenly, his plan to demand that Sora…Vanitas….be _allowed_ to carpool with him. He couldn’t tell this to Roxas, he didn’t even know if Soranitas and Roxas still even talked.

“It’s work-related.” They could both be secretive if need be.

Roxas stared at him, expression searching. Slowly, as though unwilling, he looked back to Braig’s car.

“As both a friend and a professional…. don’t get involved with that guy. He’s bad news.”

“How?”

“Stop asking me questions,” Braig stood from the vehicle, his slamming door echoing through the quiet block. “Now seriously _go away_.”

Riku nodded, stepping back from the vehicle and Roxas rolled up his window. Gingerly, Riku returned to the building, eyes ahead, not looking to the man that stood, watching him.

“He up there?”

Riku nodded as he went for the office door.

“Who were ya talking to, anyway?” there was an unspoken threat in the words, something calculated and dark in tone.

Riku turned, looked to the man’s smirk, to the thin streak of grey hair, and resisted the urge to launch fist forward.

_How much pain had he caused Sora? _

“That’s his ride home,” the office’s door opened and Vanitas, folder in hand, walked to the car. He brushed passed Riku, expression bored. “I’m taking this,” the familiar defiance had already returned to his tone, the blush long gone from his seemingly frost-bitten cheeks.

_I won’t give up on you._

Just hours before Riku would have been drawn to anger, would have rolled his eyes at Vanitas’ words, but now he felt only stillness, an edge of resolution. He knew that they were fighting, in their own ways, for a way out, for freedom.

_I won’t give up on you._

Vanitas climbed into the car, slammed the door, and Braig, as though on cue, started towards the driver seat.

“See ya, Silver.”

Riku didn’t try not to glare.

They pulled away into the night, and after a few moments, Roxas did too, turning the same corner they had, his headlights switched off.

Riku returned to the office, the anger from before melting into something like exhaustion. The conference room was dark, but the door still unlocked and his laptop, still inside. He flicked on the lights, wanting nothing more than to leave, go home, and stew in the cacophony of emotions that waved through him. But, as always, he was not spared.

There on the table, whether forgotten or deliberately left, was the phone that never stopped ringing. Its screen glowed with a notification, one that Riku couldn’t seem to grasp.

_You don’t have to thank me, I’ll send the documents to Aqua._

Studying Dark Matter hadn’t confused Riku as much as whatever was unfolding in front of him, a bead of truth he couldn’t seem to grasp as he sunk into a chair.

_Ienzo’s sudden coldness._

_Roxas, on detective work, outside of his office._

_The apparent communication between Vanitas and Aqua, between Ienzo and Vexen._

There was nothing to keep Riku’s curiosity at bay, the desire to understand what was happening in Sora’s world overwhelmingly strong. With trembling hands, he unlocked the screen, looked to the text with breath held.

_They were pictures of his employment contracts._

_Ienzo’s too._

That was the entire conversation…Vanitas has sent them and…._Naminé_ had responded…

_He must have gotten them when he'd left, snuck into the records room and taken pictures...but why?_

Nothing….was making sense.

“What’s happening….”

The silence of the conference room answered him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riku can't catch a break, he’s just in a state of permanent confusion  
He’s, 100% of the time, looking around like: Isanyofthisforrealornot


	10. Preparations and Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the calm before the storm.

Nothing had changed, but then again, everything had.

The spare key in Riku’s apartment still hung by the door, waiting for its rightful owner.

Roxas’ car, tucked away, still sat in the shadows.

And Vanitas, as he sat on the counter, drinking his coffee with feverish gulps, still only nodded to Riku when he entered the break room.

But now, now it was tolerable.

The pain from before had evolved, had grown into something just as strong but lighter to bear.

_Determination. _

The sight of Vanitas as he sipped at his coffee, typing away on his phone with one hand, the glow of the screen reflected in a yellowed-gaze, didn’t rouse the kindling of anger.

The spot where the anger had once sat, comfortable and dependable, now sat a plan. A plan Riku had thought over, deliberated over, throughout the night and into his dreams.

It was going to work, it had too.

He’d invite Vanitas and Ienzo to lunch. Ienzo would decline, but it wasn’t like Riku wanted him to come. Ienzo had to be asked or it’d arouse suspicion, it was strictly out of formality in case there were any watching eyes. After Ienzo’s decline, he’d take Vanitas to a café downtown, inconspicuous, and he’d tell him what he saw on the phone, what he assumed it meant, and why they could….should….work together.

_You took pictures of my and Ienzo’s employment contracts, you sent them to _ _Naminé, and she’s sending them to Aqua. Does this have something to do with Hollow Bastion Enterprise? Are they trying to make a comeback? Are they trying to recruit Ienzo and me?_

And then, there was the business with Roxas’ scouting Braig.

He couldn’t bring Roxas up, wouldn’t be able to easily slide him into the conversation, but what Riku _could_ do was ask: _What kind of person is Braig? How is he one of Xehanort’s trusted advisors but I never saw nor heard about him until two years ago? Who is he exactly?_

Vanitas chuckled about something and Riku looked to him. He should say something, something easy, casual, something that didn’t hint at their…post-work activities.

“You’re going to act like nothing happened, aren’t you?” He’d made an attempt.

Vanitas smirked, gave Riku a quick glance before he returned to the phone, the speed of his typing fingers never diminishing.

“Were you waiting to say that? Were you thinking about it all night?”

“Shut up.” There wasn’t any bite to his tone, the anger, the bitterness, all but spent. Vanitas’ smirk grew.

“Make me.” a teased purr.

“Is that your new favorite thing to say?”

“After yesterday it might be.”

“I thought you were going to act like nothing happened?”

“You make that hard to—"

“What happened?” Both stilled, looking to the doorway like children caught misbehaving. Ienzo stood, expression guarded and eyes searching, flashing from the coffee to his two colleagues, mere inches from one another.

“You really shouldn’t leave us alone Izzi, we got into a fight last night,” Vanitas leaned away, raised his phone once more. “We were preparing for Round Two.”

“Oh?” Ienzo advanced forward, poured himself a cup of boiling water. Neither he nor Riku looked to one another.

“Yea, Riku really gave it to me. For a moment I didn’t know if I’d be able to take it.”

Something prickled up Riku’s spine, and he tried to act casual. A sip of coffee, an expected glare in Vanitas’ direction. Still, he felt it, warm against his face. The gaze of his partner.

_Ienzo’s going to speak. He’s going to break the silence to…to do what?_

_Scold me?_

“I’ll be in the conference room; we have a lot of last-minute preparations to cover,” Riku spoke quickly, his sentence finished before Ienzo even opened his mouth. Ienzo paused, looked to Riku with the same narrowed gaze, and only nodded as Riku retreated to their office space, his heart thumping rapidly.

Ienzo, eyes shrouded behind hair, watched him go, knowing all too well what the departure meant.

* * *

“Please refrain from,” a pause, a calculated silence. “_fighting _with Vanitas, Riku.”

Riku’s fingers stilled against his laptop, and he looked to Ienzo’s turned back. The man hadn’t stopped typing, hadn’t torn his gaze from his screen. It’d been the first, and only thing, Ienzo had said to him, unprompted, in weeks, and it’d been snarky.

It’d been knowing.

_Wait till after the symposium. Waittillafterthesymposium. _

The nagging realization that’d dawned on Riku as the weeks passed, as he looked over reports he’d signed but hadn’t been fully present enough to recognize, boiled over.

_Waittillafterthesymposium. _

Hadn’t he decided to remain silent, decided that he wasn’t going to confront Ienzo? Nothing good could come from them talking now, tensions were high, ripe with the unspoken. The only time to talk was after everything was said and done, only then could cooler heads prevail.

_Wait till… _

But if he wasn’t going to be given him the same respect, the same _decency_ to keep a secret unspoken, then _fine_, they’d both have to mull over the things they’d said.

“Well, Ienzo, please refrain from falsifying our conclusion.”

Ienzo stilled, and Riku crossed his arms, turned his chair to face his partner. By his side, flipping through a report, Vanitas blinked, a flash of surprise sharp through his features. His hands went to his headphones, his eyes looking between the two workers, and Riku shook his head.

_Don’t_.

And with slow movements, Vanitas went back to the report, his eyes staring at one word, his music turned down low.

“How could our conclusion be fake, Riku?” With his back to Riku, Riku couldn’t tell what Ienzo’s expression was like, but he could assume one thing: there was probably fear in his eyes.

Ienzo slowly turned, his chair squeaking with each movement. With arms now crossed, and narrowed eyes checking Vanitas, as though worried he’d overheard, he looked to Riku.

“The numbers don’t add up, what we have as our conclusion isn’t what our research dictates. If you have an experiment that says 2+2=4, your conclusion shouldn’t say 2+2 cannot equal four. Yesterday, when you said the Heartless Conclusion is inconcludable but still has a link to the Nobody Theorem, that was a lie and we both know it.”

“You signed off on each experiment, _you_ signed off that the Heartless Conclusion being inconcludable was correct.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what _is_ your point,” And there, as Ienzo rose from his chair, hidden under layers of defiance, of anger, was what Riku been expecting. A spark of fear.

“Are you running away?” This confrontation was supposed to be yelled, blistering with rage, papers thrown. It wasn’t supposed to be spoken through clenched teeth, whispered as though pained. “Where’s the actual conclusion Ienzo?”

“Where?” Ienzo started away, going where, maybe he didn’t even know, but Riku, with a predatory glint in his eyes, moved with him. Footsteps matched footsteps, and Ienzo gave a startled yelp as his back met a wall. When he looked up at Riku, stared up at him wide-eyed, déjà vu wafting between both of them as residual sparks of childhood bullying arose.

Riku knew how to incite fear. He knew what to do with it.

Had two years really been all it took to dismantle a friendship that’d be so solid?

Ienzo had been by his side as they worked, fresh hires, desperate to prove themselves.

Ienzo had pushed him to talk to Sora, and he’d…he’d pushed Ienzo to talk to Demyx.

Ienzo had been there when his life had changed, had helped make boxes, had eaten food on a bare floor and made it seem fun.

Ienzo had…

_Why did you betray me?_

“Guys,” it was uncharacteristically soft, the touch even softer. “Stop.”

Vanitas’ hand was warm against Riku’s shoulder, a radiating, and grounding, gentleness.

Ienzo still looked up to him, eyes wide and dark blue, the fear slowly melting into something else.

“Riku,” tears began to bud in his eyes, began to trail down his cheeks. “I…”

If he stayed, they would have dotted his clenched fist, would have run down his skin and he probably would have broke, would have cried too.

“I’m taking the day off.”

But he couldn’t do that, didn’t have time for that. Ienzo had ruined his plan, had ruined their report, wasted both his and Vanitas’ time…

Just as quickly as he’d advanced, Riku retreated, grabbing his laptop and tucking it underarm, stilling his gaze so he wouldn’t have to look at either of the two men. As he left, his hands balled into fists, Vanitas’ voice, placating and nervous, jumbled over a strained joke: “Now he’s giving it to you Ienzo.”

It was such a dumb statement, Riku bit his tongue to keep from laughing.

Bit his tongue to distract himself from the burning in his eyes.

* * *

Riku sat in the breakroom, not knowing whether to stay or leave.

Isa would reprimand him if he took the day off so close to the symposium.

But everything had fallen apart so quickly…

_How could he execute his lunch plan? How could he even look at Ienzo?_

_Why would Ienzo even bring up what happened between him and Vanitas?_

_Between him and Sora…_

_Whose side was Ienzo on exactly? What right did he have to_ _—_

“Riku,” it was a voice he hadn’t heard in years, a voice that belonged in a dream he’d long woken from. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

He turned, trying to clear the anger from his head, trying to still the shaking of his voice.

_Is this how he’d made Ienzo feel?_

“Xehanort, hello Sir.”

“Come with me to Isa’s office,” The man, standing in the doorway, motioned for him to follow without further pleasantries, and Riku hated him all the more. His body, as though on autopilot, rose from the chair, moved him to follow the CEO.

_Xehanort was always listening, he’d probably heard the entire blow-up through Vanitas’ phone._

_Ienzo was going to be fired now, and Riku would be hailed as some hero._

_Given a raise._

He felt sick.

* * *

Xehanort pointed to the symposium itinerary, his long, bony finger placidly tapping against the page.

Isa, hands folded together, looked just as uncomfortable as Riku felt, his unwavering gaze masking the nerves he fought to conceal. Neither Xehanort or Riku sat in the available chairs, both hovering over the desk, looking to the pamphlet with searching eyes.

“We’ve been unable to find information about this specific start-up,” Xehanort once again tapped the company’s name, and Riku and Isa looked on. “It’s…concerning to say the least. I plan for every eventuality and this…this is unprecedented.”

_Oblivion_

He’d never heard of it either.

“How so?”

“I’m well-connected to the industry, it’s uncommon for me to be surprised by new faces, new companies,” Xehanort leaned away, movements stiff.

_How could a man so old, so fragile looking, hold such power over others? _

“The research you and Ienzo are presenting, it’s well-anticipated,” His voice still held its familiar graveled tone. “They could attempt to steal it.”

“Steal? Like spies?” _The research is bullshit anyway, nothing worth stealing._

“Be vigilant these upcoming weeks, leave all work materials at the office. I’ve already informed Vanitas that he can no longer bring the reports home with him.”

“Yes Sir,” Riku paused. “Is that all…Sir?” _God he hoped so, just being near Xehanort made him want to_—

“Vanitas left his phone with you, didn’t he?”

Riku stilled, felt his heart plummet.

_What should I say? What sounds best, the most realistic option would be…_

“He left it as the office, I took it home with me to give it back to him.”

“It’s still at your home, correct?”

“I…..I forgot to bring it, Sir.”

“I will send him over to retrieve it sometime tonight.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good, good,” Xehanort turned back to Isa. “You can leave now Riku.”

The dismissal felt like a slap in the face, as though he’d been denied the respect of a proper exchange, but Riku readily took his leave. He closed the door behind him, once again faced with having to decide whether to go back to the conference room or taking the day off as he’d told his colleagues.

Nothing had changed.

But then again, everything had.

* * *

“Talk about déjà vu,” Vanitas scanned the house, gaze trailing over the familiar couch, the head-banging cabinets, the shelved movies. “You haven’t changed much in here.”

Riku never expected that the man would actually be back in the condo, at least never under these circumstances.

It hurt.

The phone felt like a brick in hand, and the plan from earlier, the script he’d decided upon, suddenly seemed…inadequate.

“You should delete what you have on here, your grandfather—”

“Yea I know, I know,” Vanitas extended his hand like a child. “Gimme.”

“Vanitas, I’m being serious.”

“As a heart attack, yea I know, you don’t have to tell me,” his eyes still scanned the room, still looked to the small, sparse decorations Riku had put up. “You still have that ornamental keyblade?”

Riku’s gaze, unwillingly, went to the weapon. It hung by the backdoor, bathed a silvery-orange in the afternoon light.

“I spare with it something.” he looked back to Vanitas, expecting to find him still looking to the keyblade, but no. Vanitas’ gaze had already found something new, was frozen in his glance, something like pain in his expression as he stared at the kitchen wall. Riku followed the gaze.

_The key, hanging by a tack._

Riku put the phone in Vanitas’ hand, brought the man back to life with the touch. Neither moved, both craving the touch but not pushing forward, allowing the phone to act as a mediator for the only tokens of comfort the moment seemed to allow.

Now was the time to try and initiate the conversation they so needed to have. _Now_ was the only time Riku could afford.

“I’ve always wondered…that party….why were you there Sora?”

Blinking, Vanitas tore his eyes from the phone, his shoulders drooping, releasing the momentary tension. “Party?”

“At the Old Mansion.”

“Ah, that little shindig. Cause of Naminé, it was for moral support.”

Riku’d thought calling him by name would rouse him to drop the act…but it didn’t seem to work. He felt disappointment, hollow and cool, deep in his stomach.

“Where’s that moral support now?” it was barely whispered.

“What do you mean? Naminé is fine.” Vanitas drew away, tossed the phone for hand to hand.

“Is she…connected to Braig in any way?” The phone, previously sailing through the air, stayed secure in Vanitas’ left hand.

He blinked, shock flashing in his gaze as he looked to Riku, and then, slowly, a small smile began to form.

“I wouldn’t put her in danger like that.”

The new phone, in his pocket, shivered to life, and Vanitas sighed.

“Sora,” each time he said the name Riku felt better, reassured, a spark of confidence in a time of unease. “I need to talk to you about the symposium, in private. Come back here, get Terra to bring you if you can so it doesn’t—”

Vanitas looked to Riku with a narrow glance before he moved forward with calculated precision. He raised an index finger ever-so-gently Riku’s lips, gave a low _shhhh_. He lowered the finger, replaced it with a soft kiss, and Riku reciprocated in turn.

With closed eyes, he remembered all the times they’d kissed just like this as Sora left to return to Twilight Town.

There came a low clatter, and Riku opened his eyes, the kiss ended and reality settling in once again.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Vanitas was already turning away, opening the door with the old phone grasped in hand. “Just wait for me.

“I’ve waited two years, I can wait a lifetime.”

They shared a smile, and the door was closed, sealing them away from one another once again.

* * *

This was the kind of night when friends were needed.

The kind of night when Riku needed Isa’s wise words, needed Ienzo’s composure.

He leaned against the door with a sigh, looked to the room just as Vanitas’ had done.

Nothing had changed, but then again, everything had.

Should he redecorate the living room, reorganize the kitchen.

It was all the same, stuck in some kind of depressive limbo.

The couch, the cabinets, the DVDs, the key….

The key.

_The key was gone._

There came a sharp twang in heart as Riku stared at the empty tack. He lulled his head against the door and stared at where it had once been.

The theft, in a way, felt closer to a gift than anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the flirting dialogue between Riku and Soranitas I've had planned forever and I'm so glad they finally found their home in this chapter lol.


	11. Offense

Today was the day, two years in the making.

One look in the mirror before he left, one brush of a trembling hand through hair. The reflection showed the vulnerability: roots peeking through, a glimpse of chestnut against black, a blue-eyed glance still glossy from the morning’s tears.

_Bbzzzztt._

He leaned his head back, stilling the shaking of his hand as he placed the ambered-contact.

_Bbzzzztt_.

Someone was calling, always calling. Blinking rapidly and hands fumbling over the bathroom counter he answered the phone, blinking the contacts into place as the other person on the line cleared their throat.

“Are you ready?” he practiced a smirk in the mirror and adjusted his tie, his chin and shoulder cradling the phone.

The response came slowly, a low, resolute “_Yes._”

His voice pitched a bit as he went to speak, and he glared at his reflection. “No going back now, this _is_ what you wanted.”

No response came, and maybe he liked that better than a nervous, fumbled insistence. Sora looked back to the mirror, to the reflection of Vanitas, and ended the call.

This wasn’t the time for goodbyes.

“We’ve got this,” And he gave a weak smile to the boy before him. When had the line between them blurred? When had he become comfortable looking to someone who should have been an imposter?

He flicked the lights off, gave himself one last glance over, knowing, hoping, that this would be the last time.

***

They were slotted to present at eleven, and already a buzz had developed. In typical Xehanort fashion, there’d been a significant amount of intrigue, rumors expertly laced to add hype.

Even if their conclusion was…Riku’s eyes narrowed…_incorrect_, the research would lead to _something_, would advance their field of study further. It would be because of their hard work, would be because _they_ did the experiments, _they_ paved the way…

He repeated this to himself as he made his way to the discussion hall, hoping that with each repetition it’d somehow start to feel true. That’s how he was supposed to be thinking right now, and if he didn’t focus his thoughts, his face would be a dead give-away of how he was really feeling.

There’d been a time in his life when Riku would have given anything to be right here, right now, ready to present his blood, sweat, and tears for review from his mentors, peers, and those he admired more than anything.

His stomach churned, his heart began to pound, and with a shaking hand, he adjusted his tie.

That time had long gone.

The discussion hall was just as he’d thought it would be: pristine, shades of white and grey, long hallways leading to rooms filled with presentations and echoing voices that argued against hypotheses, contested against the validity of results.

He was _here_. He’d done it. In no more than two hours he’d have fulfilled a dream.

And then….would he resign, start a new path in life? Take whatever reviews his peers asserted and just…move on? Leave it all in the hands of a once-friend, his obligation filled?

In the main room the stage was being prepared for the next presentation, and Riku stood, back pressed to the wall, looking out to his once dream, the voices of his compatriots a dull roar that he couldn’t bring himself to join.

His research had _originally_ been about finding new worlds. Finding ways to get there, using natural resources to travel….But this wasn’t how he wanted to do it anymore. Research tied in with social politics, a monopoly on discovery….

_What happened to retiring by the time he was thirty? What happened to becoming a household name within the community?_

He was going to become a household name come the end of their presentation, and just as he’d expected, his phone began to vibrate.

_What about after? Who would he be? What would he become? Did he even really know himself anymore….he’d spent so long, comfortable in his darkness and_—

“Found you.” The voice brought clarity, a peak of light through the haze, and with a blink, Riku emerged from his thoughts.

This was not a part of the plan. He should be with the others, preparing for the presentation.

“Sor—” The phone shivered in his pocket, and Riku lagged. Sora was alone, no Xehanort or Braig by his side…and Riku’s phone continued to vibrate. This wasn’t…this would look suspicious. _Improvise_.

Riku wanted nothing more than to wrap his fingers wrapped around Sora’s tie, to pull him forward and press his thumb to the man’s chin. Sora would overlay his hands over his, and there’d be a moment of softness in the tension.

“Hello Vanitas,” but Riku kept his distance, scanning the room. “You’re alone?”

“For the moment, my grandfather got into a conversation with an old friend of his and Braig always makes it a point to be extra attentive when there’s crowds like this,” Sora side-stepped into the hallway, motioning for Riku to follow into the privacy of darkness. “Your phone is ringing.”

“It’s my guest calling,” Riku found himself mirroring Sora’s movements, disappearing down the hallway with one last glance behind him.

“You invited someone?” 

“An old friend, they said they wanted to see the presentation so I gave them a visitor’s pass.”

“Oh…. that’s….,” Sora lagged on the words, his gaze falling. “Riku, about the presentation…,”

_“Riku, you should know…”_

_“Is this about us?”_

_“In a…roundabout way. It’s mainly about the presentation.”_

“I know Sora,” and Riku felt a shiver as Sora looked to him, felt his own morsel of guilt. “I know.”

He didn’t know what he expected, but only half of it occurred. He knew Sora would move forward and take his wrist in hand, knew he’d stare, a piercing honey gaze as he searched Riku’s eyes. Was he looking for weakness? For a tremble of unease? Pride?

That’s what Riku was searching for, as he looked back, questions growing with each passing, trembling second.

“How much do….?” Sora’s grip tightened on his wrist, something like panic rising in his voice. “Riku I…”

“I should have listened to you earlier.”

The words caused what Riku hadn’t expected, Sora’s hold on him lessening, pulling away. His fingers, ever-so-gently, stroked the inside of Riku’s wrist, and when he looked up, there was a hardness in the gaze.

“Whatever happens, I’ll come to you, ok? Just wait for me a little bit longer.”

Riku’s heart tightened and he wanted to tell him, warn him, _I won’t be the one waiting this time_, because despite everything he’d been told, and all he’d planned, looking to Sora before him, feeling the gentleness of his touch….it was too much to bear.

“I have something _I_ need to tell you—”

“Hello Vanitas,” and as always, Sora pulled away, the panic dying just as quickly as it’d risen. As he looked to the speaker, arms crossing, defiance rising in his expression, Riku did the same. There wasn’t an edge to Ienzo’s words, wasn’t anything but a calm, almost pleased nature in the way he approached the pair. Riku looked to his partner, and they shared a glance, one Riku couldn’t decipher.

“You’re on after this next presentation, you should go get prepared,” Ienzo’s presence, and his words, changed something in Sora. The shift happened quickly: Arrogance in a black suit and tie, a serious air, mocking eyes, and in less time than it took to blink, Sora had gone into hibernation, and Vanitas had risen.

“_Thanks_ Ienzo, I wasn’t aware of the time,” Vanitas’ tone held all its sarcastic glory, and with an almost exaggerated sidestep, he moved away from the pair, out from the shadows of the hallway.

“You’re welcome,” Ienzo brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. “I believe your grandfather is waiting for you in Conference Room 13.”

Vanitas rolled his eyes, fingers tightening against his inner elbow, nails digging into the flesh.

“Ienzo you’re—"

“Good luck Vanitas,” Ienzo’s smile, and his stare, held the first markings of hostility, a spark of cold fire piercing in gaze.

Vanitas stared back, whatever insult he’d planned heavy on his tongue. His gaze flashed between Riku and Ienzo, and with a scoff, he turned away.

“Save it for yourself.”

And as the two partners watched their presentee go, in Riku’s pocket, the phone finally stopped ringing.

***

In silence, from the back of the room, Riku and Ienzo watched Oblivion’s presentation, both, equally, lost in silent worlds of emotion.

Oblivion’s presentation held everything Riku’d thought it would. The minute he saw who was presenting he knew all that they were going to say and how they were going to say it. He knew those eyes, illuminated evergreen under the spotlight. Knew the long blonde hair as though it was his own, how many times had he’d teased that it was a hazard in the lab? Ienzo’s fists were balled, his shoulders tense, and when Riku spoke, he closed his eyes tightly. His long-practiced façade of calm was finally failing him, and despite the sadness that rose within Riku, there came a spark of vindication.

“Did you know he’d be here?” Riku knew, just from the delay, that the questioning was probably torture for Ienzo. “It’s…interesting that’d he go work for Eraqus…Eraqus used to be Xehanort’s business partner you know.” Riku was in a torturing mood.

“….You know about that?” Ienzo’s words came slowly, as though he were biting back each syllable.

“Back when I was convincing Isa to let us attend the party at the Old Mansion, I researched Xehanort’s past business accomplishments. You know, in preparation.”

_“The Heartless Conclusion….”_ The presentation was going well, already the crowd was stirring with questions. Riku looked to Ienzo, saw the guilt-ridden eyes, the frown, and thought to his phone.

“When did you figure out that Vexen went to work for Oblivion? Or were you the one who suggested it to him?”

Ienzo’s gaze lowered.

_“….concludable”_

“How long has this plan been in the works?”

_ “…..link to the Nobody Theorem…..”_

“When exactly did you leak our research to Oblivion, Ienzo?”

And just like that, the ice was broken. Ienzo began to tremble and for a moment, seemed as though he might cry. It’d taken nights of thought, mornings of sitting in silence, trying to connect the pieces, for Riku to finally realize what the false conclusions meant and how the badly orchestrated experiments fit together. He’d wanted to cry too.

“Were you going to just allow Vanitas to present our research knowing Vexen just disproved every single one of our hypotheses?” With each question, Riku found himself advancing, pushing Ienzo deeper and deeper into the dark of the hallway. With each step, desperation filled Ienzo’s face, and something like agony began to paint its way through his expression. 

“Riku…,” he swallowed, and with water-laden eyes, blinked. “Professor Vexen and I…It wasn’t completely fair what Xehanort did to him. They…he was threated. I don’t know what they threatened to expose about him, but it was enough to make him….”

“Enough to make him sell off the company to someone else? To sell _us,_ like we’re equipment?”

“He didn’t have a choice Riku, he even wrote me a letter in case…in case he disappeared or something. They—"

“They paid him off, is that what you were going to say? Blackmailed him? So you gave him all of our research as a way to get back at Xehanort?”

Ienzo didn’t respond, the color draining from his face, his eyes peering over Riku’s shoulder. Riku pulled back, arms crossed as he looked to the new arrival. The pain in his gaze faltered, gave way to recognition as he looked to the person before them.

“You didn’t answer the phone when I called Riku.”

“Riku….you…called the police?”

“Not on you,” Roxas, or as he was in the moment, Detective Strife, looked to the pair with a knowing gaze.

“Then…,” Ienzo looked between the two of them, eyes searching for answers, hands nervously entangling themselves.

“The detective’s been looking into Braig for a while now. He’s got pretty deep connections to some…. less than legal activities. Extortion and blackmails aren’t the worst of his crimes.”

“But Vexen didn’t report anything.”

“I did,” as Riku spoke, Ienzo’s head lowered once again, shame painting his cheeks. “I considered who Vexen was and realized he’d never give up his research willingly, not for all the money in the world. And when I considered who Braig is….well…it was like the whole picture suddenly became clear.”

“So you got the authorities involved only an assumption?”

“Didn't you just say that Braig extorted and blackmailed Vexen? Didn't you say that Vexen wrote you a letter that documents the threats?” Riku’s words seemed hushed in comparison to the presentation continuing behind them, Vexen seeming to grow more powerful with every word. Roxas looked to Vexen offhandedly.

“Where is Braig?”

“Conference Room 13…” Ienzo’s response came breathlessly, and he leaned against the wall, shaking, expression worn and fatigued.

They knew Sora would be unwilling to testify against Braig, but Vexen....

Vexen, they could work with, and all they needed was Ienzo's admission that something had _occurred_. And Riku was just the person to get the information from him.

Roxas nodded, and smoothly turned away. He was going to talk to Vexen first, convince him to testify against Braig, and then...if it all worked out....Braig wouldn't be a problem anymore.

They watched him go, both their hearts pounding, both their revenges acting out before them, neither talking, nor acknowledging, the wired microphone concealed in Riku’s tie. They’d worked independently, selfishly, for their own acts of revenge against Xehanort, against Braig, and though their journeys were connected, they felt farther from one another than they’d ever been.

"You tricked me Riku..." there was hurt, a pain Riku was very familiar with, in the depths of Ienzo's tone.

“The reason you gave our research to Vexen was to undermine Xehanort wasn’t it?” But Riku's pain had longed turned to anger.

Ienzo didn’t respond his gaze locked onto Vexen, face turned away from Riku’s.

“You never considered how it’d impact me? How it’d impact Sora?”

“….Do you think Sora wasn’t involved? How do you think I was able to get ahold of certain documents without looking suspicious?”

He’d hoped that Sora had been complacent in all of it. Hoped that the anger, the betrayal, that he felt towards Ienzo wouldn’t bleed into yet another relationship.

“Certain documents?”

“Our employee contracts.”

_Sora tried to warn me._

It'd been Sora's trust, his attempt to tell Riku, that made it impossible for Riku to be anything close to mad at him. At most, Riku was upset at himself for not listening when he could have, should have.

“I did you a favor Riku. Getting fired by Xehanort for leaking information is the best way to escape this company while…also avenging ourselves. I had to see what our contracts entailed, how much of our research is our own intellectual property…”

But Riku wasn’t listening anymore, Ienzo’s words, his explanations, falling flat. Riku looked to the clock, _10:45_, and curtly, said one last statement to Ienzo. The shorter man stilled, and with arms crossed, turned away from his once-friend.

Riku left before Vexen finished presenting, left before Vanitas would take the stage, and embarrass his grandfather’s legacy. By now Roxas would be confronting Braig, arresting him and disrupting a fraction of the control Xehanort held over his grandson.

It’d been the only thing Riku thought of to do. If Ienzo wanted, and succeeded, in avenging himself and Vexen, Riku’s desire to avenge Sora had been satiated. Without Braig as Xehanort's muscle man, and with his trust in Vanitas completely shattered, maybe, just maybe, he'd abandon the idea of controlling Sora.

_Whatever happens, I’ll come to you, ok? Just wait for me a little bit longer._

Everything was going according to plan.

Everything was truly about to fall apart.

***

Isa sat at his desk, eyes trailing over the computer screen as he reread the weekly memo.

It was near gibberish, but he’d let the intern write it. With a sigh, and a pencil, he scribbled on a notepad: _Discuss proper memo etiquette with Ephemer_.

The office door slammed, and Isa blinked, saw a blur of movement that could only be one person. He waited, reread the memo again as the clatter of dropped filled the office. There came the sound of hurried footsteps, and in the doorway stood who he’d thought it’d be, a cardboard box in their hands, an expression of calm anger, tensed lips and narrowed eyes looking back at him.

“Did you know?”

Isa minimized the memo and folded his arms across the desk. “Know?”

“Ienzo gave our research to another company, the _real_ research, what we have is a bunch of detractive bullshit.”

“Oh,” Isa’s brow furrowed. “I wasn’t aware….is that related to Braig being taken into custody? Is that why the presentation was pulled at the last minute?”

Riku dropped the box onto one of the chairs in front of Isa’s desk before sitting in the other. ““Well….Braig was unrelated to that...but I could kill Ienzo right now, he led me out there like a lamb heading to slaughter. If I hadn’t realized—” He felt the anger, sharp and red, begin to rise again. Ienzo _had_ betrayed him. Ienzo had taken their research, what they'd both worked on for years and years, and given it away without even consulting him. What Riku'd done, collecting information on Braig's treatment of Sora and coercing information about Braig's blackmailing of Vexen, was nowhere near the absolute disrespect Ienzo had shown him—

“Were you going to tell me about this realization Riku? Were you planning on telling _me_ about Ienzo betraying the company’s trust?”

“I….I wasn’t,” there was a spark of guilt in his eyes, and the eye contact faltered. “I’m sorry Isa, but when I talked to Rox—…the detective…he told me to keep it to myself.”

Isa’s anger, if he was angry, was different from Riku’s. There was a calmness to it, a sudden acceptance that made it seem as though he hadn’t cared in the first place. He nodded slowly, and picked up the pen, rolling it between his fingers.

“If Ienzo did in fact give the research to another company, you should get a good lawyer Riku, being that you are linked to the leaked project.”

“One already contacted me actually,” the anger Riku’d brought into the office was already cooling, and he leaned across the desk with a sigh. “The one that helped Naminé.”

“And Ienzo orchestrated that?”

Riku didn’t reply, and Isa stood, arms clasped behind his back, gaze going to the window.

“Riku,” there was a note of discipline in Isa’s tone, and he stilled, like a scolded child, as he looked to his supervisor “What will you do now? You will definitely be fired if you don't quit first.”

Riku was silent as he rose, the cardboard smooth against his palm. He looked to the office, to Isa, and knew that this would be the last time he’d gaze upon the sight. 

“I’ll….go home I guess.” He bit his teeth against the lie. “Are you staying here? You’re our supervisor, won’t Xehanort reprimand you?”

Isa smiled. “Don’t worry about me Riku, I’ve my own means of protection.”

And with a smile, and one last nod to his supervisor, Riku took his leave. He walked the halls of the office, taking in the small things: cobwebs in the corner, the coffee-stained cups in the break room, the desk he’d sat at for years.

Roxas waited for him outside, and with each step he felt the impulse to turn back, to go to Isa and ask him for the advice he so needed.

It was a safety precaution, just until they were able to solidify the entirety of Braig’s underground connections and how they connected to Xehanort and the company.

Riku had served as a large help in the investigation, his presumptions of the blackmail and extortion, the wiretap to secure Ienzo’s knowledge.

It made him a liability, a hefty one. Enough so that Roxas felt that Riku's safety could become an issue.

_I’ll take care of everything. Just wait for me._

But he had someone waiting for him. Someone he had to explain things to one last time.

And hopefully, when the time came, they'd wait for him too.

***

Sora had never felt as happy as he had when Aqua slid the contracts over the desk and explained, in a smooth, even voice, why Ienzo and Riku were protected from suit.

It’d been a clause, an off-handed wording about ownership. The successful experiments hadn’t been conducted on Nort Industries property, and Ienzo had only disclosed to Vexen the results of experimental errors, leaving the man to come to his own (if not obvious) conclusions.

It was unethical, it was a breach of trust, but it _was_ legal.

And Xehanort was, probably, wishing Braig wasn’t in police custody, because if not for the situation, he would have sent the scarred guard to kill the Nort Industries contract lawyer.

The line between suspension and quitting was thin, but Riku and Ienzo had long severed themselves from the company, so there was no love lost.

The same could be said about being disowned, Sora’s small involvement was as much as a betrayal as any. It was like all those years ago, but with more of an air of finality. It was the moment when Xehanort made the call to pull the presentation, he’d look to Sora with eyes that held…nothing. He’d asked, monotously, as Braig was handcuffed and read his rights, if Sora had known anything about what was occurring.

It’d taken on a yes, such a simple, easy word, and he’d lost everything, money, clothes, reputation. What hurt most were the friends he’d made while at Daybreak Town, friends that’d promised to look at his paintings come the time of his escape suddenly going radio silent. One remained though, sleeping on Larxene’s couch felt more satisfying than his California King had ever felt.

And though he couldn’t use his Gummiphone, and he was sure his credit cards would be denied, it was the first time in years that Sora didn’t feel the careful watching of eyes. He was as good as dead in Xehanort’s eyes, probably dead in the eyes of all the companies he’d worked so hard to impress in the name of the family. So many connections lost, so much money wasted.

_Oh well. _

Somewhere Terra was preparing travel arrangements unbeknownst to their grandfather, and though they’d have to act as though they’d severed all contact with one another, he knew he’d see his older brother again. Eventually. Their grandfather wouldn’t live forever.

Sora was broke, his reputation tarnished, his bank account completely depleted. And he’d never felt better. His heart was still black, and when he looked at his passing reflection in the building's glass, there was a moment of confusion when he saw blue eyes looking back.

_How long would he feel this way? Forever?_ He walked up the stairs of the building, the thoughts lessening as the key easily slid into the lock, a satisfying and nostalgic _click_.

Riku would be mad, Sora expected that. He’d probably be a bit wounded, but they’d talk it out, and Sora was fully prepared to accept responsibility for the hurt he’d caused, would listen even if Riku’s words were sharp and aimed to kill. Freedom always came at a price, and hopefully the gamble was worth it.

Plus, there was the matter of Riku and Roxas working together to take down Braig. This whole time he’d thought he was aiding in freeing Riku from Xehanort’s grasp, but in reality, he’d had support working on freeing _him_.

He’d have to treat Roxas to sea salt ice cream a thousand times over, and to Riku, a lifetimes worth of kisses.

“Riku?”

The condo was warm, a dusty orange glow bathing the living room. Everything was the same as it’d been, the same couch, same keyblade.

Riku stood by the counter, one hand lowering a cup of water from his lips, the other pressing a piece of paper against the countertop.

“Hello.”

This wasn’t exactly the kind of reunion Sora’d expected, but when had anything about their relationship gone as anticipated? Slowly, he inched forward, gauging Riku’s reaction. The man watched him, gaze following as he inched closer, something like satisfaction in his smile as Sora pulled him in for a long, tight hug.

“I’m sorry I had you waiting for so long…”

He wrapped his arms around Sora, and Sora pressed his ear to Riku’s neck, listened to the even, methodic heartbeat. They pulled away only after what felt like a moment’s eternity, and Sora looked to the paper on the counter.

_Dear Sora,_

“Is that for me?”

Riku nodded, sliding it closer. Sora took it, his expression faltering.

_We handle things in our own ways, ever since the beginning it’s been like this….._

_……If your plan works, and you’re reading this, I’m happy for you…._

_A part of me feels betrayed………._

_……you took matters into your own hands and…_

The writing faltered, scrawling into obscurity before starting smoothly again, and Sora’s hands trembled, the paper shaking with each heartbeat.

_I’m mad Sora…._

_….I’m grateful. _

_It’s been so long since I’ve been able to see the road to dawn………._

_…….If any legends are true, let it be our paopu’s……_

He lowered the paper, and they were silent. Sora looked to the counter, thinking, eyebrows knitting together. He’d expected the man to be hurt, to be angry, but this…this felt different. Sora’s voice shook as he went to speak.

“I really wanted to tell you Riku but Ienzo said it would jeopardize everything, and I was thinking if something went wrongandgrandfatherfoundoutthenmaybeyou’dbesparedsinceyouweren’tinvolvedand—"

“Sora…”

“I couldn’t think of any other way to prove to grandfather that he couldn’t….when Ienzo approached me about it at his wedding I…,” he closed his eyes. _Don’t cry, don’tcry._ “I wanted to help you Riku, you don’t know how sad you looked.” He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and breathed in shakily. _Get it together idiot. _

_Would Vanitas ever leave him be?_

There came the familiar caress of a hand against his cheeks, and Sora took another deep breath. He opened his eyes, took in Riku’s gentle, comforting gaze, felt the hands, warm and sure, cupped around his cheeks. It was an almost comical, oddly innocent display of affection, and Sora gave a small smile.

The first kiss to the forehead lingered, the pecks on the cheek a bit quicker, and then the long, drawn-out final contact of lips enough to still the worry that fluttered in Sora’s heart.

“S-so you’re going somewhere?”

There was a lingering silence before the “Yes” and even then, Riku spoke as if he didn’t want the words to be said.

“Is it….Am I….Can I come?”

Another kiss on the forehead, a gently whispered response as Riku left the kitchen, heading for the bedroom.

Sora watched him go, thinking over what he’d just heard. What would Vanitas do, would he scream, would he cry? Punch a wall, wreck the kitchen?

_What was he going to do?_

Riku returned, backpack in hand, _had he packed it earlier? _Riku opened the door, the orange light of the lazy afternoon pooling into the living room, and silently, he asked the universe for just one last favor. They looked to one another, and for a moment, it was as though they were back at the supermarket, two souls searching for something in the dead of night.

“Why a letter?”

“Better way to organize my thoughts…Kairi taught me.”

_Right, the two had become close ever since he’d…_

Thoughts raced as Sora looked to Riku’s back, and with a final forced smile, Sora let his heart be his guide him. He stepped towards Riku, pressed himself against his warm back and whispered the response he knew Riku was waiting for. 

And Riku left, Roxas’ promise and Sora’s words echoing in his head. It hurt more than he could say to know that he wouldn’t be able to wipe the tears that’d fall when he left, and he hoped, prayed, that this would be the last missed connection of his lifetime.


	12. Moving on for Moving Day

Why did they always come to him when they needed to move?

Isa liked to think it was because he was a bit of an expert at putting boxes together, and then of course, there was the fact that he didn’t mind helping to clean.

They’d be foolish not to ask him.

It’d been a phone call between Sora and Axel and just a bit of eavesdropping to get him to tag along for the moving preparations. Boxing up Riku’s possessions to be neatly left inside a storage unit was the least he could do for his AWOL companion. Plus, there was a reconciliation he had to help mend.

They stood outside of the condo, the heat of the day pressing against their backs, and despite the discomfort, Isa didn’t push his partner, at least not initially. Axel paused outside the condo’s door, his hand raised but caught in limbo. The sound of Sora’s humming came from beyond the wood, high and even, and something like shock, maybe even regret, colored Axel’s expression.

“Axel pulled back from the door. “The first day after he’d left that’s what I noticed…the lack of humming. He used to hum on his way to work every day, and then there was the loudest silence I’ve ever heard.”

Isa cupping his hand around Axel’s, intertangling their fingers into a joint fist. Sora, even now, probably didn’t recognize the gravity his departure had had upon his friends. Probably didn’t even recognize that any blame they felt wouldn’t be directed to him, but to themselves.

This was why Isa had come. Not for boxes, not for cleaning (though they were definitely pluses) but for this.

“Knock Axel.” He rose their interlocked hands and could feel the pounding of Axel’s heart against his wrist, as they together, knocked.

The humming stopped quickly, and Axel tensed. The door opened, and there was a silence as they looked to one another with the bashful energy of children on the first day of school, words lost between them, eyes going to the ground.

Talking on the phone had been hard enough but seeing each other in person….

“Hello Sora,” Isa spoke first, and he squeezed Axel’s hand.

“Hey-hey kiddo,” Axel’s grip on his hand tightened, and he rigidly waved. “Long time no see.”

“Yea…,” the smile came slowly, and Sora looked to the ground before, sharply, meeting their gazes with a wide, pleasant smile. “Thanks for helping me guys, come in. Um, I’ll clean up the bedroom, could you guys finish up the living room?”

“Yea of course that’s….” But he was gone, retreating away like a scared cat after the sound of approval. Axel’s sentence fell flat, and they entered the condo wordlessly. They took in the mess, took in the silence, waiting for the humming to return before they started working. Minutes passed, and the only sound was the ticking of a Mickey Mouse clock.

Axel looked to Isa, eyes wide, like pain in the gaze. Isa gave his hand a quick, gentle pat before pulling away.

“He’s been through something difficult Axel,” Isa went to the unassembled boxes in the kitchen, eyeing the mess and the bedroom Sora had disappeared into. “If that forced smile means anything, he’s probably having a bit of an identity crisis.”

Axel, unwillingly, went to the stack of DVDs, sorting through them without any defined system. He grimaced as he held _Advent Children_, and placed it, haphazardly into its own lonely, separate pile. He didn’t respond, only sorted the DVDs to the tempo of the clock, and Isa, with a sigh, began to box up Rik—…_Sora’s_ kitchen.

It’d been less than three years since he’d helped Riku move in, and here he was again, packing up the same things into different boxes. The walls held sweet déjà vu, the counters rife with memories that longed to be forgotten. The apartment was a time-capsule, left, as though waiting, for Riku’s return. There was still a half-used bottle of shampoo in the bathroom, some leftovers in the fridge, a replica keyblade that needed dusting, and a startling number of paopu fruit cans.

Isa didn’t know much about Sora, most of what he heard or knew had been from stories he’d heard or split-second judgments he’d made at the art gallery. Sora, from what he knew, seemed to be a cheerful, if not tired, young man; charismatic in the best, and the worst, of ways. 

“From the wedding and what I saw at work, Vanitas…,” his voice lowered, another glance to the bedroom. “Vanitas seemed to be in direct opposition to everything I’ve heard about Sora, but he _was_ Sora Axel, just a darker facet of himself.” Isa opened a drawer, began to sort through the contents, some things going to the trash, others placed gently in the box.

Wordlessly, Axel took one of the assembled boxes.

“He’s not a flame Axel, he can’t just extinguish parts of himself. He was Vanitas for _years_, if he’s acting differently than you’d expected him to, that’s probably because he _is_ different now. He probably just wants to know that you accept him as he is.”

“Oh….” Axel’s gaze fell, and Isa looked to the drawer.

They worked in silence then, Isa in the kitchen, Axel in the living room. Axel worked through everything quickly, boxing and beginning to whatever he could grab down to the _Chocobo Haul_. Isa lingered in the kitchen, something in his hands, muscles tensed. He only relaxed, seeming to return to reality, when his companion nudged him slightly.

In Axel’s hands, he held a spiral-bound book.

“I think that’s Sora. I didn’t box it up in case he’s using it right now but I don’t want to leave it on the floor. I’m going to go load the rest of the living room stuff into the truck,” Axel grabbed a box and made his way to the door before Isa could instruct him, as they both knew he would, to take the book to Sora himself. Box in hand Axel struggled to open the door, and as he finally made his way outside, the door slammed with a loud bang. Receipts and papers from the open drawer fluttered into the air, and Isa sighed. _This wasn’t working out the way he’d hoped_.

He looked to the new mess, shaking his head, and paused.

_That wasn’t good._

The sketchbook, blown open by the gust of air, showed vulnerability Isa knew wasn’t meant for his eyes. Swirling patternings of red, splotches of black and grey. Detailed eyes and mourning, charcoal dragged across the page.

It was abstract, but the pain was easy to see.

“Oh.”

Isa looked up from the page, and Sora stood in the kitchen’s threshold, tape in hand, his gaze going not to the sketchbook, but to Isa’s metered expression.

“I came to see if you needed tape,” He, rigidly, stepped forward, and with an extended, trembling hand, reached for the book. “Could you please...?”

Isa handed the book to him, felt a spark of empathy as Sora held it tightly in one hand, pink-shame warm against his throat.

“Did you draw this while you were away at school?”

In the depths of blue there was a flash of panic. “Yea. I couldn’t take art classes so it was really the only way I could draw...”

_He could work with this_, Isa nodded, and slowly, began to straighten the mess of papers. _Getting Sora to open up about his experiences could be beneficial_.

“I still have your paintings in my living room. I’m glad you continued with your art.”

Sora pressed the book to his thigh, and with a sharp chuckle and smile, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry my sketches aren’t like what you saw back at the gallery showing.”

The front door opened, and Sora jumped, the embarrassment creeping deeper into his skin. But Isa wouldn’t, couldn’t, pretend this conversation wasn’t happening. This was, in actuality, the perfect time for the conversation to happen.

“There’s validity in emotions other than joy Sora, there’s no reason to apologize. This work is just as beautiful as your paintings of the moon.”

Something sparked in Sora’s eye, and he went to speak, paused, and looked away again. Isa waited, and slowly, Axel closed the door. Sora cleared his throat and closed his eyes, and after a few, even breathes, he spoke.

“Thank you, Isa.”

“Don’t you agree Axel,” More pressure to the wound. “Isn’t Sora just as talented as he was before?”

Axel reached for another box and Isa willed him not to run away, his gaze turning to something like a glare.

“Well I didn’t see the art but I’m sure he is. I was always…I will always be proud of your work Sora.”

“I…Axel, I don’t deserve that,” Sora was beginning to crack, and Isa closed his eyes. “What’s there to be proud of?”

Axel, slowly, let the box in his hands fall back to the carpet.

“You don’t…,” and then, quieter. “This isn’t about the art anymore, right?”

“I was an asshole Axel,” And just like that, the façade broke, and Sora, with a groan, leaned against the wall. “I thought maybe if I was just…I…I thought it was the best thing to do, to become someone else,” he lingered on the thought, and then with a shake of his head, he bowed his head.

“But now, I feel like I have to pretend to be who I _used_ to be, like everyone is expecting me to be positive all the time; but…even back then I wasn’t happy 24/7. I just wanted to make sure you guys weren’t worried about me, I never wanted anyone to be worried or mad…but look where that got me. Riku’s gone and I’m sure Naminé won’t accept any apology I try to give her. If I was her I wouldn’t forgive me.”

He buried his face in his hands and gave a loud groan. The box fell the rest of the way as Axel advanced forward, Isa stepped away, giving them all the room they needed, his back pressing against the kitchen drawers.

Axel put a hand to Sora’s head, and gently, with a small smile, ruffled the hair.

“We never gave up on you, not Kairi, not Ventus, not Roxas. None of us are expecting you to be happy all the time, we’re here for you.”

Sora stilled, and Axel, taking it as a good sign, continued to speak of their friend group’s loyalty.

But Sora, Sora’s thoughts had already shifted.

_Roxas_.

_He knows where Riku is, he’s the only one who could know. He was there that day, he came into the room to arrest Braig. Who else could have pointed him in the right direction besides Ienzo and Riku? He can say he doesn’t know where Riku is all he wants but..._

There were a lot of things Sora wanted to say to Roxas.

"So....don't worry Sora, ok?

Sora looked up, looked to Axel and Isa, and realized there were a lot of things he wanted to say.

But instead, with a shaking voice, all he could mutter was: “Riku left me a letter you know, and he wasn’t all that forgiving.”

Sora left then, and for a moment Axel looked as though he’d lost him again. But he returned just as quickly, the note in hand. He gave it to them with trembling hands, and they read like parents overlooking a report card. Nervously, Sora waited, watching their reactions change from confusion, to maybe something like anger from Axel, and finally, to a smile, and a chuckle, from Isa.

“This is a poor attempt at detraction. I would assume Riku came to the conclusion that breaking it off would be a kindness for you, a way for you to focus on realigning your life perhaps,” Isa shook his head. It seemed both Riku and Sora suffered from near-detrimental levels of a savior complex. Fools. “You broke it off with him when you moved to Daybreak Town for the same reason, did you not?”

Sora paused and then, groaned: “But he at least knew where I was. I’ve been spending the past couple of nights barely sleeping! I ended things _cleanly_, I didn’t leave him with…..” Sora struggled for the word and then, with splayed hands, motioned to the apartment. “_This_!”

Boxed memories and abandonment. Isa sighed. He looked to the Mickey Mouse clock on the wall.

“If I recall you also tried this sort of….fake-anger thing. You told him he was an idiot for not asking you out sooner, made a bit of a villain out of him.” Sora paled.

“He told you about that? Next time I see him I’m going to give him a piece of my mind…”

Axel chuckled, and the redhead, with a smile, flicked Sora’s forehead.

“You’re going to give him a piece of your mind? Like what? Beat him up? What is this, the resurrection of Vanitas?”

Isa glared, but then…Sora began to laugh. A warm sound, one unburdened, momentarily, by worries. As though on cue Axel continued the teasing, a smile pulling at his cheeks as Sora, for the first time, seemed to relax. He allowed them to talk, allowed happiness to enter to interaction, and quietly, Isa reached into the box he’d first finished preparing. He pulled an envelope, unsealed and with Sora’s name scrawled across the lip, and clearing his throat, presented it to the smiling brunette.

Sora blinked as Isa handed it to him.

“I found this in the drawer, an envelope without a letter. Perhaps it will be of some service to you.”

Sora passed his fingers over the paper. _Was it from Riku_? He felt the weight of something inside and stilled. _A key, maybe, to wherever he was? _With shaking hands, he opened the envelope, his eyes wide as Isa and Axel watched.

There was no key, no extra clue to Riku’s whereabouts.

But there, in the envelope, was something just as sweet.

Sora held it in his hands, and slowly, he resisted the urge to cry. 

“Shells...in the shape of a star?” Axel leaned against Isa, his head pressing against the other’s. “Isn’t that like those little charms Kairi used to make when you were kids?”

Sora could feel the emotions he’d tried so hard to repress finally breaking through. The trinket was homemade, maybe even made in _this_ home, and there was something endearing in its crudeness.

He loved it.

“Kairi gave me one of these too you know, back when I first left Destiny Islands,” he sniffled. “Her and Riku really did get close while I was gone.”

And with a shaky breath, Sora broke. “I’m so glad, I always thought we’d make a really cool friend group.”

They weren’t close enough to hug, but Isa put his hand to Sora’s shoulder, squeezed and smiled when the tears welled in the young man’s eyes. He allowed them to fall, sniffling as he held the lucky charm in his hands.

Axel, on the other hand, scooped Sora into a hug, one that took him off his feet.

With the charm in his hand, tears running down his cheeks, and Axel’s arms squeezing against his ribcage, Sora knew that Riku’s emotions in this letter were true, even if Isa tried to say they’d been detractions.

Riku had been upset about how things played out, just like how Sora had wished Riku had asked him out sooner. Riku had felt betrayed, the same as how confused he’d felt when Riku talked about wanting to change his life goals for him.

But unlike then, when there’d only been negatives and yelling, slammed doors and unfinished business, now, there was something else. There’d been positives in the note, gratitude scrawled across the page.

_…….If any legends are true, let it be our paopu’s……_

There’d been hope.

Sora held the charm in his hand, could almost hear Kairi telling Riku how when she’d given Sora her own charm, she’d said: “Take this. It's my lucky charm. Be sure to bring it back to me.”

There was love.

He’d have to thank her for being there for Riku. He looked to Axel, to Isa, and knew he had a long list of thanks you to give, a lot of hope to hold on to.

Now was a good time to start.

“Thanks for helping me move guys,” Axel returned Sora to the ground, and their smiles, small and warm, were tokens of love he hadn’t known he yearned for.

“We’re your friends Sora,” Axel grabbed a box, resuming his mission. “It’s what we do.”

Sora opened the door for the redhead, and felt a smile, a genuine one, pull at his cheeks.

He felt stronger now, felt surer than he had since he’d read the letter and assumed the worst.

His friends really were his power, and though Riku hadn’t said it, Sora could feel it in the lucky charm he’d made. The power of a promise that was too strong to speak or write. A promise that could only be shown through actions, or destiny, or a mixture of the two.

Just as Riku had done as he’d finished the charm and began to write the letter, Sora found himself thinking: _…….If any legends are true, let it be our paopu’s……_

And until then, he’d find peace knowing that wherever Riku was, they were under the same sky, and would one day meet again.

* * *

On the picnic blanket, Axel’s phone vibrated against bottle of juice, and he answered it with a slow, joking drawl. Somewhere across the park a child laughed, and the breeze faintly blew over the pair, tickling Isa’s cheek and fanning the red wisps of Axel’s hair.

Isa closed his eyes, felt the sun’s warmth on his cheeks, and listened to Axel’s “uh-huh”s and “that’s stupid”s. He waited until Axel nudged him, and slowly, he cracked open an eye.

“What did Sora say?”

“He just asked if we’d heard anything from Riku.”

The name brought a cloud of worry. It’d been at least six months and there’d been nothing, radio silence across the board. Isa had his inclinations, but he didn’t dare say anything, hadn’t even talked to Axel about it.

It’d come as a shock when Xehanort’s influence, his power, wasn’t from his wealth, but his threat of force. Without Braig’s connections Xehanort was just another company, one that’s reputation had yet to recover. The true nature of Braig’s connections were as much as a mystery to Isa as they were to anyone else, but he understood the threat of the man, understood why someone, like Riku, would need to go into hiding if they incurred his wrath.

There were many nights as they waited for the condo to sell where Sora would come from the hotel he’d been staying at and stand at their doorsteps, nervous and low-voiced, asking only to sleep on the couch, worried that somehow…maybe…Braig would send someone to get him, an act of revenge for aiding, by his confessions, in the imprisonment of the man.

No one ever came, but Sora, still, never seemed to stop looking over his shoulder, never seemed to shake the token of fear. Wherever Riku was, Isa wondered if he was doing the same.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him we haven’t heard anything.”

“Alright…What else did he say?”

And the tension cleared, the air of the conversation palatable once more. Axel repositioned himself from laying besides Isa to, with a grin, falling into the man’s lap, his head resting comfortably against Isa’s thighs.

“He wants to paint his living room light blue.”

“Light blue will look nice, though a beige would look just as appealing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Beige fits because of the sand….because he’s by the beach Axel.”

“Yea Isa, I know what you mean.”

“I think we should paint our living room beige,” he opened both eyes, turned to Axel with a slow, lingering gaze. “Won’t that look nice?”

He smiled as Axel tried his hardest to articulate why beige was too bland, and out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the sparse glance of a passerbyer. Axel struggled over his response, something like: “_I mean if you really like beige we can do it but_…” and Isa turned, and paused, his blood-freezing, breath stilling.

He was back _there_, back _then_, back when he’d feel satiated by a glance, back when he was begging, and wanting, and struggling….

“Xemnas?”

A moment trapped in time, a yearning to run, to look to the ground.

“Oh, Isa…hello.”

Xemnas was looking down at him, his hand twirling a leash. By his legs a dog stood, its tail slowing, eyes wide as it looked up at its master.

Isa rose on shaking legs; stood before the man he’d once called his own. His heart pulsed in throat, and his thoughts, his words, disappeared as he went to speak. He wanted to demand answers, to say anything other than just the _name_…but…what if anger became sadness? What if he made a fool of himself, became reduced to tears by the mere utterance of “why?”

_Why are you here?_

A hand, _that_ hand, wrapped around his, held him in place, gave him strength.

“Sup Xemnas,” Isa squeezed his partner’s hand.

Xemnas’ gaze, slowly, pulled away from Isa’s, freeing him from the trance of unease.

“Hello Axel,” the dog tugged at Xemnas’ arms, and he steadied himself against its pulling. “You look well.”

“It’s Lea, and I’m great.” and again, Xemnas’ gaze returned to Isa.

He expected there to be something like mocking in the golden eyes, maybe even longing, something that’d pull at his heart, would make him want to turn away.

But there, to his surprise, in the depths of warmth, was something soft and knowing, a depth of unprecedented grief.

“I…” the words Isa had tried so hard to find seemed lost to Xemnas too, and he struggled over whatever he was attempting to say. “I’m….”

Axel cleared his throat, and again, Isa squeezed his hand. There came a roll of the eyes, but the red head stayed silent, looking to the dog with a raised eyebrow.

“Back then,” Xemnas’ voice still held that satiny quality Isa could fall into, still held everything that pulled at his heart, ushered him forward, intoxicating with every breathy pause. “It had nothing to do with you. I was the problem.”

Isa’d expected everything but that. _An apology_? The surprise freed him, unraveled the confusion, unbounded his words and slowly, Isa thoughts became clear. With Axel’s hand in his, he spoke.

“How are you now,” it was becoming easier to say the name, easier to look to the man before him. “Xemnas?”

Xemnas seemed to consider each word as he pulled a hand through silvered tresses. “I’m better.”

“Good.”

And then came the warm, dazzling grin, an expression of joy that’d captured a many’s hearts. Xemnas pushed a strand of hair behind his ear, and Isa felt Axel, by his side, tense.

“I’m better now too.”

Their gazes held for only a moment longer, something like a goodbye in the last, slow blink. Xemnas, nodding, turned to leave, his attention returning to the path, his dog gladly bounding forward.

“Come Pluto.”

He was leaving without asking the obvious, leaving without going into the expected small talk between old colleagues…old lovers. No questions about the legal battlings of Nort Industries, no congratulations concerning the engagement bands that caught the afternoon light.

But of course, Isa hadn’t asked anything either.

Xemnas had changed, the once burning need that’d encompassed his every movement, an appetite that could never be satisfied no matter how hard he worked or loved…. It’d quieted. It seemed as though, almost shyly, the person Isa had always loved, the reason he’d always gone back to…This wasn’t the villain from his past, it wasn’t the man he’d chastised himself for thinking about. How many questions had he told himself to bury because he knew they’d never be answered? How many answers could he receive now that something had changed?

“What happened?” the time for answers was now, and the way Xemnas paused, the smoothness as he turned back to them; the wind catching his hair, a clash of silver, showed that he’d been waiting, wanting, to oblige such a questioning. “What changed?”

_It couldn’t have been a person_. Isa, once again, gripped Axel’s hand as he looked to Pluto. _It couldn’t have been the dog either_. 

“Yea, what made you rethink being an asshole?” and for once, Isa didn’t turn to glare at Axel, willing him to hold his tongue. It had to be said, and if his partner was going to help him say it, he had no qualms.

There was unexpected consideration in Xemnas’ silence. Where was the anger, the mocking? Xemnas’ eyes narrowed as he thought, and Isa’s heart quickened.

“I was a shell of myself, defined by things that I realized were…,” he paused, looked to the grass, and sighed. Xemnas paused between his words as though testing the gravity of them, considering how each syllable pulled his audience closer. “Horrendous...”

The wind picked up again, taking the rest of Xemnas’ words with it. They were silent, both calloused and healed. A thought flashed through Isa’s mind, a sharp reminder of that last day together.

"For years I chastised myself for being naive when it came to our relationship. It was clear we were both wanting something different from it, I should have communicated my expectations better."

They looked to one another, anticipation in their gazes, knowing in the stares.

“I was wrong for what I did, Isa,” Xemnas repeated the words quietly, and in his eyes, Isa saw the moon, saw his love, his grief, his triumphs and his worst nights. "I'm an adult, I was aware of what I was doing to you, how you felt. You can let me be wrong."

The wind blew, the children played, and Isa, with the engagement band warm on his finger, didn’t speak.

Wouldn’t speak.

He'd spent so much time thinking of how he was wrong that.. he had no forgiveness to offer, and if Xemnas wasn’t going to give him the truth…offer him the real reason why he’d changed or tell him what had made him repent after Isa had begged him time after time to _please_ consider….

There was no point in thinking about it anymore, he’d said all he’d needed to, thought about it for too long already. With a final slow nod, Xemnas turned away. and Isa returned to the picnic blanket, feeling as though something inside of him had shattered, something he’d held for years, holding within himself with a trembling spirit.

And yet… something new had formed too, something unspoken, detached…but forever bonding. And then, for the last time he hoped, Xemnas exited his life.

“That guy is fucking weird,” Axel leaned back as Isa rejoined him on the blanket, his expression pinched, annoyed.

"You told him your name is Lea."

"Hm?" Axel broke a blade of grass between his fingers, crushed it into a pulp. "Of course I did, I don't want him attached to any of the memories with that name. If I go by Axel I want it to be on my own terms."

Isa watched him, felt the warmth of a smile, and took a deep breath. By his side came a sigh, and when he looked to Axel. With each step Xemnas took away from them, Axel too seemed to breathe a bit clearer, his hand unclenching, and flattening, against the picnic blanket.

“Besides that," Axel leaned into Isa, nudging the man. "We should get a dog. What do you say, Saix Puppy?”

“Doesn’t a dog seem excessive? A pet to go with all five of our children?”

“Children?” Axel leaned forward. “Are you with child Isa?”

A glare, a laugh, and Isa leaned forward, hair falling over his face and spilling onto Axel’s chest. He pressed his head against the warmth of Axel’s shoulder.

_He felt so much lighter now…_

“Our children are Roxas and Ventus, Sora and Riku, that girl from the grocery store.”

“Her name is Xion, for one, and we also have Naminé…does Kairi count?...” There was no greater comfort than the hum of Axel’s musings against his ear.

“A dog and our seven children, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Isa closed his eyes, felt the warmth of his sun against his face. There came a chuckle, a hand placed over a shoulder, and then, as the wind blew, a loving, comfortable, silence.


End file.
